Edge of Forever
by Thy Name is Black
Summary: Chase's reign has devastated the land for five years and the monks have retreated into hiding, unable to protect the world any longer at its forefront. They are now rebels fighting against the Dragon King's tyranny. All hope seems lost. But, out of the ashes, a hero will rise from the most unlikely of places. M for violence
1. Brontide

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.  
**

**ATTENTION:  
****To keep things from getting too confusing, you should probably read **_**Against All Odds**_** and **_**Her Eyes**_** first (since this is the final stage of the trilogy) But, as to not waste time, you can just read **_**Her Eyes**_**, since it's the more relevant one. Alright, carry on.**

Brontide _**  
**_(n.) _The low rumble of distant thunder_

_One__

Kimiko watched the sky, filled with red cinders and dark smoke, as it back dropped the wasteland of the city formally known as Hong Kong. She was sheltered beneath the shadow of a long ago abandoned high school. Leaning her back against the frame of the dusted window, she waited. The glass of the window where she sat had been broken below her. She had cleared the shards away for her surveillance. She fingered the Star of Hanabi absentmindedly, twirling it between her hands, as her eyes darted across the landscape for any sign of Guan or Jermaine.

They had been scouting, looking for any signs of civilian life that had the possibility of still scouring about the ruined labyrinth of metal and concrete that now served as the outskirts of this newly rebuilt province, recently named Lóng zhī chéng: the City of Dragons. Those who did were slaves who had somehow found ways of escaping Lóng zhī chéng, risking starvation or being hunted down by the cats who prowled the streets and outskirts after dark in order to be free of their shackles as hard labor workers.

But, now, twilight was fast approaching. The sky grew more sinister quickly in these times and all kinds of dangers came upon the relic graveyard at night. After all, the sun had not shown itself for half a decade, not quite, under the constant shroud of intimidating smog and brimstone ash.

Darting between the greater bits of rubble came two familiar shapes. Guan was in the lead of the two as they passed back and forth, weaving their paths to stay unspotted by the birds circling above. They could never be too careful. Chase had crows everywhere searching for them from the sky.

Kimiko aligned the Star Hanabi to catch light off of one of the buildings under the setting smog, to alert them to where she was. Guan made his way to her in no time, but Jermaine was slowed down by the injured man he was carrying. As he came closer, Kimiko saw a familiar tuff of flaming red hair as the man's head fell unconsciously forward.

She stopped breathing.

No, it could not have been him, could it? Jack Spicer had been missing for five years. He disappeared in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye after Hannibal Bean's abrupt death at the hands of Chase Young's daughter, Cassandra. They had all thought he had died, that one of Chase's cats had long since eaten him, but no. Here he was, alive, where Raimundo was not. But, for how much longer?

Kimiko jumped from the window onto the dusted earth and ran out to meet Jermaine half way.

"Kim, you shouldn't have done that." said Jermaine gruffly as Kimiko took one of Jack's arms and wrapped it around her neck to help her comrade carry the load. "The birds-"

"They didn't see me." she assured him quickly, avoiding his dark eyes as they scanned her face worriedly. They both took a quick glance to the red sky above them. It was clear for the moment. "Let's just get him back, okay?"

Safely beneath the shadow of the abandoned school, they found a safe place to lay Jack. He groaned as Kimiko gently placed his head on the dusty concrete floor, but his eyes did not open as she checked his neck for a pulse. It was slow, but steady. At least he was still breathing.

To Kimiko, he appeared older. Of course he was- they all were- but, Jack looked doubly so. Both were the same age at nineteen, but Jack's gaunt and ashen face sharpened his thin, bird-like nose and jutted his now pointed chin. The baby fat he had once had was gone, replaced with bony cheeks and dark eye hollows. Only the corpse-like grey tint of his skin and flaming hair was all that was left of the goofy boy she had once known.

Jack was skinnier now; the drought and famine Chase's reign brought to the world after its initial destruction and lack of sunlight emptied the bellies of all who had not been lucky enough to find food or steal from others weaker than themselves. Jack, she knew, had to have been the weaker.

"Kimiko," Guan's gentle voice broke through her thoughts. She turned to look at him, silent. "We must keep moving. Clay and Omi are waiting for us back at the base."

Kimiko said nothing, but hardened her gaze and nodded. She stuffed the Star Hanabi back into her pocket as he walked over to her. He offered to carry Jack, and Kimiko was not obliged to say no. They would need her speed to make it across the wasteland in time to warn the others on the off chance that Guan and Jermaine were captured or killed.

The reddened sky was surprisingly docile without a bird in sight. There had not been many flying over head in the recent days, thankfully. Kimiko could not fathom why this was. Perhaps Chase had something planned for his unfortunate serfs and need all of his animal servants to prepare for it. Perhaps he had given up on searching for the monks. Kimiko knew, resentfully, that he hadn't. Something else had to have been at work here.

* * *

They had hidden in the subways that ran beneath Hong Kong. Many citizens who had not been killed or were simply abandoned beneath the rubble for being too weak to rebuild the city into Chase's image had taken refuge in this dark and dismal place. Hanging gaslights replaced light bulbs down here and many people had to live off of the rats to keep from starving. It was up to Kimiko and her team to be sure that this was a rare occurrence but, with so many people, it was nearly impossible to feed them all. A little over half of them had died from disease in the early years of Chase's reign.

Now, only a small amount over sixty people was left to date, barely surviving within the tunnels. More survivors were showing up every day, wounded and starved to the near point of death. Many of those survivors would not make it through the night, no matter how desperately Kimiko and the others would try to keep them alive.

Guan placed Jack down onto one of the mats as Kimiko checked in with one of the elderly women who had grown sickly within the past week. Disease was a dangerous thing down in the tunnels. She had to be sure to quarantine those infected to keep anything from spreading.

Several doctors and nurses, luckily, had survived the invasion. Not many had, but at least there were a few to help keep the others healthy and to heal the injured with what little supplies had survived along with them. Those who were not so lucky were gathered and killed by Chase's army to keep them from helping the salves, breaking down the humans' resolve.

One of the doctors, who was luckier than those who had been captured above, a woman with kind and weary eyes, held the old woman lightly by the arm as her dry and withered hand took hold of Kimiko's. The old woman smiled at Kimiko and thanked the girl for her kindness before being gently pried away from her and taken down to one of the adjacent tunnels where the nurses had set up a makeshift hospital to care for the sick and injured.

Kimiko's heart sank as she watched the old woman go. How much longer would it be until more people got sick? How much longer until more people died? She wished desperately that Raimundo and Master Fung were still alive. Then, with their words to guide her, she would not feel so hopeless.

She looked back to Guan, who was leaning over Jack with a knee bent, studying him closely. His lips curled into a slight smile and Kimiko saw his lips move, but was unable to hear his voice above the noise of the refugees. No, he was not studying Jack at all. He was speaking with him. Kimiko's temper flared and she stormed through the crowd of men and women to get to him.

"Why didn't you tell me he was awake?" she demanded, glowering at Guan. Of course he hadn't. He never said it outright, but Kimiko knew that Guan did not respect her role as the Xiaolin Dragons' new leader. It infuriated her.

"Nice to see you too, Kim." came a gravely voice from below her.

Kimiko looked down to see Jack's tired eyes smiling up at her through the slits of dark circles. He looked like death. Kimiko clenched her jaw, her anger draining from her. "Hi, Jack." she said, swallowing down a fit of nausea.

"Nice weather we're having." he answered, his grin widening into a skeletal smile. His teeth looked too big for his mouth, like he hadn't eaten in weeks.

She could not keep up with the pleasant charade he was leading. "What happened to you?"

"I'm trying to fit into a size zero," he clipped weakly, his breath shaking with every other word. "Can't you tell?"

Guan stood, reminding Kimiko of his presence. "We should allow him to rest before you ask any further questions." he said, taking a hold of her shoulder. "I shall get one of the nurses to care for him."

She remembered her anger in a flash and shrugged his hand off with a glare. Kimiko kneeled down, ignoring Guan's advice, and brought her face close to Jack's. His smile was gone. It had been replaced with a solemn, thin line.

"What h_appened _to you?" repeated Kimiko, her resentment towards Guan hardening her words. "How are you _still_ alive?"

"You should ask Chase that." answered Jack, swallowing with great effort. Kimiko could see his Adam's apple bob out of the corner of her vision. Her eyes were solely focused on his cynical stare.

She said nothing to his remark, the gears in her head turning from questions she knew Jack had no energy to answer. She held his gaze for several seconds longer than necessary, sizing him up. The Jack five years ago would have shrunk away at the angry blue in her eyes, but this Jack did not. He stared back at her challenge, unblinking, and with twice as much fury as she. This was not the cowardly child she knew. This was a new person, stubborn and cynical, hiding behind the same, tired face.

She broke eye contact and stood, her ponytail swinging from the quick movement. "Get some rest," she told him quietly and turned to join Guan's side again. "And when you get better, I'm going to ask you a few questions."

* * *

Jack grew stronger in the eight weeks that followed. Though the food was of little supply and not in the best of quality, it was still better than whatever Kimiko could guess he had been eating, or lack there of, above ground. Most of what they ate was old food stolen from above in the newer, rebuilt parts of the city. He was still skinny, but the color was starting to return to his skin and he simply looked ashen again instead of deathly gray. His body was still pretty thin, but at least now he could sit himself up and try to walk when he awoke in the early mornings with a nurse to help guide his footing.

It was after Jack could finally walk on his own again that Kimiko had decided to question him about what had happened to him and how he had survived for five years above ground without the monks' protection. She found him near one of the tunnels that had unfortunately collapsed farther down where Queen's Road central had once been. He sat propped up against the cracked wall, staring up at the dark ceiling. A gaslight he had borrowed rested beside him, lighting up his face with intense shadows. He looked like a ghost.

He had tied his grown out hair up into the short bob of a ponytail, uneven bangs falling loose around his forehead, which Kimiko took note of with an inner grimace. Whatever attempts he had made at cutting it over the years were choppy. His clothes, too, were shabby.

His signature black coat was even more tattered than she remembered. Its sleeves and hem were mottled with holes. His pants were torn and muddy. The boots he wore, that she thought were brown, were actually black and caked with mud, and it made her a little sad and when she noticed that his goggles were missing from his attire completely. Her long lost fashionista past was coming back to haunt her. Kimiko swallowed it down, a glower aimed at her thoughts. She was the leader now, acting Shoku in Raimundo's place in a world rife with chaos. She had no time for girlish things.

"Glad to see you can still sneak up on me, fire girl." said Jack as she joined him on the opposite wall.

"You know why I came to find you, Spicer." Kimiko told him. "I need to know how you survived for so long above ground."

Jack still did not look at her. He rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes. "Where's Raimundo?" he asked. "I need to speak with him. I keep asking for him, but no one will tell me where he went."

"He's gone."

"On patrol, huh?" Jack snorted mockingly. "_Typical hero_."

"He's dead, Jack."

Jack said nothing for a good long while. Kimiko watched as he swallowed. His shoulders tensed, but he still did not look at her. With a croak, he asked "When?"

Kimiko glared at him, though she knew he wouldn't notice it. Folding her arms and leaning up against the wall, she answered. "Five years ago. Practically right after you ran away."

"I didn't run away." Jack told her bluntly.

"Yes you did." she accused.

Jack smiled, though it wavered. He did not have a very pleasant face. His chin quivered as he gave a small, sharp laugh. "Yeah, I did_._" he admitted.

"You said to ask Chase what happened to you." Kimiko reminded him of the day they brought him to the tunnels. "Did you go to him? Did you beg for his forgiveness; to take you back?"

It was then that Jack opened his eyes to look at her. His glare was hard. The red of his eyes regarded her callously. "No." he growled. "I said to ask Chase because, unlike you _Xiaolin losers_, I've been doing something to take that scaly bastard down a peg."

Kimiko could not believe her ears. He had to have been lying to her. "_Excuse_ me? _How_?"

"How did Raimundo die?"

"Answer my question."

"Answer mine first."

They were in a standoff. Each glared with a stubbornness to rival a thousand mules. It was Kimiko, for the second time, who let her gaze go first. She heaved a sigh angrily. "About three days after you left, and took the Mending Needle with you, Chase returned. Well, it wasn't so much Chase, as it was his daughter."

"Cassandra."

Kimiko glared at Jack's interruption, but he said nothing else and allowed her to continue with a steady stare. She went on.

"Master Fung and Dojo decided to fight them off so we could escape. He told us that if Cassandra took us to Chase, the world would be doomed. Not only that, but Omi was still unable to fight. He told Raimundo to get everyone- especially Omi- away from the Temple, but Raimundo went back to help him, against his orders….Both of them were killed."

"Why didn't you stop him?"

"Why did you run away?"

"Because I'm a coward." Jack answered her, lifting his chin her way judgingly. "But _you_ aren't, so why didn't you stop him?"

"Guan." she said. "He came to help when Master Fung told him about Hannibal Bean's death. We were trying to figure out just what had really happened; whether it was a trick or not. It couldn't have been that easy."

"Only it was." said Jack with a solemn nod. "What did Guan do?"

Kimiko looked at him, the memory flashing before her like waves upon the shore. She could feel phantom arms wrap around her and pull her away while the girl inside her mind kicked and screamed. "He held me back." she whispered hollowly.

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

"Of course I am." he told her sternly. "I'm probably sorrier than anyone."

"Oh, really?"

"My grandmother's gone; my sister's gone, too." Jack told her with a sympathetic shrug. "And so are my parents."

"Mine too." answered Kimiko without skipping a beat. "Everyone's lost their families down here."

"But Chase directly killed _mine_, remember?"

Kimiko stopped talking. She felt her temper rising, and she knew that it would do no good asking Jack questions if she lost her head.

"This is the worst interrogation I've ever been to." said Jack with a mischievous smile. "No good cop or nothing."

"You're an idiot." she snapped.

"And you're a crappy leader." he bit back.

"How would you know?"

"Raimundo would never have let Guan stop him from saving a friend."

"I'm not Raimundo."

"Exactly."

Kimiko bit her tongue to keep from lashing out at him. He was just trying to get her to snap; she knew that. She glowered at him, feeling the vein on her forehead tighten. "You never answered my question."

"What?" asked Jack, playing coy. "_Oh_, yeah. The question about me being better than you Xiaolin idiots."

Kimiko said nothing and nodded. Jack smiled.

"All of my robots were destroyed, as were most of my tools, but I was able to scrounge up a few things here and there. I actually had this wicked bow and arrow set that I modified…Have you noticed how there are fewer birds in the sky?"

Kimiko's fury skyrocketed at the hint. "You_ didn't_."

"Bingo." said Jack stoically. "And, you're welcome."

"He's _had_ to have noticed his missing servants, _Jack._"

"Told you' I'd take him down a peg."

"_Jack_," Kimiko hissed through her teeth. "_Please_ tell me this_ idiocy_ is not what you've been doing for the past five years."

"It's not." said Jack. "The bird thing was more recent. I've done some other things, too. Basically just tinkering with stuff here and there. "

"What are you talking about?"

Smiling wickedly, Jack spread his fingers apart from each other. "_krwoosh_."

"The _explosions_?" Kimiko asked, an idea dawning on her. When on patrol, she would hear blasts several miles into the city. Jermaine would often report back that one of Chase's statues had collapsed or been blown to pieces. "Were you making _bombs_?"

"What better way to show the monarchy you're pissed off than by blowing it up in their faces?" he asked. "Literally?"

"You've jeopardized us all!" yelled Kimiko, no longer able to contain herself. She attacked him, flinging Jack against the wall with a full on body slam. She was nose to nose with him. "Do you know how many people have _suffered_ because of that? How many people have _died_?"

Jack did not fight back, nor did he cower. Much like a girl Kimiko had once met, his fear was replaced by obstinate anger. "At least I'm doing something." he told her with quiet rage.

"You've condemned innocent people to_ die_, Jack!" she snarled. "How is that doing something?"

"It's _more_ than you've _ever_ done." he said, sitting up and backing Kimiko up off of him. His eyes held hers with dangerous intent. This definitely was not the boy she grew up beating into the ground. "All you _self-righteous jerks_ have done is sit on your asses and wait _whenever_ your help could have mattered!"

Kimiko backed away from him as his voice rose. "Jack." she said.

"_Condemned innocent people_?" he barked, ignoring her. "_God_, Kimiko, you're such a _hypocrite_!"

"Ariela wasn't innocent." she pointed out. "She was working for Chase."

"_Innocent_?" asked Jack with a wild look. "She had _nothing_ to _do_ with the Shen Gong Wu! She had _nothing_ to do with that and yet, you let her die. You let my _grandmother_ die, and you let _her_ die. If they weren't innocents, then _what were they_?"

"They were _bad people_, Jack."

"_Bad_?" he asked. "Why? Bad because working for Chase made them bad or bad because you knew they were related to me bad?"

"It wasn't like that!"

"_Then what was it like_?" he shouted back.

Stunned, Kimiko lost her voice. Never in her life had Jack ever stood up to her like this. Never in her life had he ever been this angry. She did not know how to answer him. Jack took her silence as the answer.

"You know, Kimiko, I'm really starting to lose faith in your ability to define what's right and what's wrong." he told her. "So, forgive me if I'm _just_ a little jaded about it. Honestly, I don't even give a damn anymore."

Jack turned and picked up his gaslight. Walking down the tunnel, back towards the camp, he said "I have bigger fish to fry."

"Wait."

Jack looked back at Kimiko, his face no longer angry. Instead, he just looked incredibly tired. That outburst he gave had taken quite a bit out of him.

"I can help you." she said. "…_We_ can help you."

"Too little too late, sister."

"Jack," she tied to plead with reason. "You can't take an entire empire down by yourself."

"That's a laugh," he said. "Coming from _you_."

"I know we've had our differences, Jack. You, the guys and me." said Kimiko. "But this is bigger than all of us."

Jack rolled his eyes. "_Of course_ you are."

"Can't you just _listen_ to me?" she snapped. "This is the chance to make something out of all the crap you've done!"

Jack scoffed. "_Crap_?"

"You can help save the world." said Kimiko. "And you can take Chase down while doing it, too."

"This isn't about saving the world, Kimiko." said Jack. "It's about revenge. For _you_, andfor me. Don't make it sound like some holy mission because it's not._ You're_ no saint."

"Neither are you." answered Kimiko. "Look in the mirror lately, Mr. _I art holier than thou_?"

"I'm not trying to be." Jack confessed sullenly. "Unlike you, or Raimundo for that matter, I've never tried being something that I'm not. I'm not a hero, not like he was."

"Jack-"

"I just want revenge against Chase for what he did to my family, just like how you want revenge for what his daughter did to Raimundo and Master Fung. That is the_ only _reason we would ever be working together."

"You're wrong."

Jack smiled.

"Keep telling yourself that."

Kimiko ignored his last statement. "So, are you in?"

"Shouldn't you ask your _precious little team_ if it's okay first?"

"They don't need to know."

"_Now_ you're sounding like Raimundo."

It was a low blow, but Kimiko had a plan that she knew would not go well without Jack, whether she liked it or not.

"I'll tell them," she snipped, walking towards him. "Don't you worry about it."

As she joined his side, Jack asked "So, chief, what's the plan you have in mind?"

She answered him with a question. "Do you know if Chase knows about your one man rebellion?"

"Would he be holding random executions if he did?"

"I'm serious."

"So am I." smiled Jack. "The good thing about my bombs is that it's home made stuff that anyone can make. Nothing high-tech. He _couldn't_ know if it's me. Besides, he'd _never_ suspect me. I'm just the groveling worm to him, remember?"

"That's why I want you to infiltrate his defenses." she said. "Get on his good side and learn what he's up to for us."

"I don't think Chase _has_ a good side."

"Spicer."

"Alright, alright." said Jack. "I get it. I'll play the sniveling wimp. I got him to take me in once; I can do it again somehow."

Kimiko nodded her head sharply, almost rethinking her plan. "Good."

"In all honesty, though." said Jack. "He thinks all that statue defacing was you. Like I said, I'm just a worm."

"_Great_." she told him, rolling her eyes. _Of course_.

"You're acting a little too cheerful about this, you know." Kimiko added with a grimace. "Should I be worried?"

"Maybe a little." Jack confessed with a playful smirk.

He then stopped, bringing both of them to a halt, and looked her in the eyes seriously. "Just promise me," he told her. "That if at any time I'm there and I get the chance to ruin his life the way he ruined mine, you'll let me."

Ice shot into Kimiko's heart at how serious he was. Her eyes widened, but she kept her voice even and grounded. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because Raimundo wouldn't let you."

"You aren't Raimundo." Jack reminded her.

Kimiko glowered at him. "You still wouldn't do it, even if I allowed you to."

"Why would you say that?"

"Aside from wimping out at the last moment," said Kimiko. "You're too good for that."

Jack laughed. "I'm not." he told her. "I'm really not."

"Raimundo thought so."

"Well, he isn't here anymore, is he?" asked Jack. "We both have Chase to thank for that."

"And I promise you," he added. "That if you don't make this deal, then you can kiss me goodbye because I'm not your pet. I've been fighting against Chase on my own for years while the _mighty Xiaolin babies_ sat on their hands and watched as the world burned."

"That wasn't my fault!" argued Kimiko. "I had no choice! Not with Omi being sick and losing Raimundo!"

"It might as well have been." snapped Jack. "You're the leader now, right?"

He brought his face portentously close to hers. He was not playing around. Here, in this tunnel, Jack was a totally different person than the boy who used to wet his pants at her presence. "And another thing," he said. "If you didn't really have a choice, you'd already have been killed by Chase or Cassandra a long time ago. You aren't helpless, Kimiko. Just scared."

She glared right back at him to prove that she had gotten a stronger backbone in the long five years they had been parted as well. She was not intimidated by him. Not by a long shot. This man was angry and cynical, but he was still Jack. There was absolutely no reason for Kimiko to fear him.

Jack held her stare until he broke it off, mumbling "Who's the coward, now?"

He walked past her and, this time, intended to leave her there.

She _really_ hated that boy.

* * *

**AN: Oh, Lord, save me from the nightmare that is myself. I promised bbst that I'd get their request up with this story as well, but it's not going too good for me right now. Everything life could throw at me happened this week, so I had to redo my writing schedule. Now, I might not get everything else up for a longer time than expected (maybe about a month at the least). But, I'm trying to get everything up as fast as I can. And, yes, Raimundo is dead. Hurray for five year breaks between sequels and whatnot. Not the best first chapter I've written, but I do have a lot planned for everything else after this chapter that should help to explain a few things. And, as for Jack, more about those five years he spent alone will be revealed as well. Thanks for reading! **


	2. Weiji

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Weiji _**  
**_(n.) lit. _The "crisis" or "critical moment"; from risk and opportunity, the idea that there can be a positive result in a wisely handled risk_

_Two__

Yin Ri watched from the Seeing Eye Orb, her eyes scanning its mirroring gaze quickly for any sign of the monks. She absentmindedly fingered the locket that hung around her neck. The metal was cool to the touch. The locket was not a secret, but it was precious to her all the same.

It reminded Yin Ri of her faults and transgressions, of a time where she once had hope and the light was not yet too far from her reach. But, now that light was gone. It was replaced with rage. She had been ignorant, but never again. This time, she knew, it would be her or Chase. Her son's life depended on it.

She looked into the Orb, searching for any remains of life in the ruins outskirting Lóng zhī chéng, but only could see the approaching shroud of darkness peering over the clouds of smog. Yin Ri dug her nail into the crevice of the locket, a new worried habit, as she clicked her tongue against her clenched teeth. She was thankful for being so unlucky, knowing it prolonged Omi's life one moment longer, but she knew that her time for stalling was at its end.

Chase, she knew, no longer trusted her; not after the Noleta incident five years prior. She had betrayed him. She had tried to free herself and Ariela from him, but at the cost of the girl's life and any glamour of false security Yin Ri had placed on Chase about her trustworthiness as his Alpha cat and head general. Even so, Chase had not harmed Yin Ri for her insolence. No, he had done far worse.

Through the ties that bound them, Chase had used Yin Ri like a puppet, forcing her to kill Ariela in cold blood. However, his plans for the warrioress had not stopped there. Upon Ariela's execution, Chase began his terrible conquest as Yin Ri watched while thousands of innocents were murdered, torturing her with lives she could not save. But, the worst was still not over.

When the time would come, and it would indeed come, Yin Ri's final act before her own demise would be to torture and kill her own flesh and blood, her son and last tie to the only man she had ever loved. Chase, for now, planned on keeping her close if only to be sure that he would be around the moment she finished Omi off.

But, presently, he was more concerned with keeping his subjects under control. Peasant uprisings were growing more frequent within Lóng zhī chéng with the destruction of any landmark that was attributed to Chase's likeness. Anything connected to Chase that was left ungraded was blown to pieces by what both Yin Ri and her master had assumed were homemade weapons. Even the flying scouts were unsafe. In the recent weeks, about twenty had been shot down from the skies; the weapons used to kill them were taken from their bodies before being discovered, leaving the cause of their assassinations unknown.

Because of Yin Ri's lack of an explanation for the what, who and how of this uprising, Chase's belief in her abilities grew slim. She had an inkling of the vigilante's (or _vigilantes'_) whereabouts, but she was less inclined to tell him. He was not an idiot, Yin Ri knew. Chase knew that she was hiding something from him and soon he would get the entire truth out of her. Possibly even by ripping her throat out in the process.

Yin Ri knew that she was, indeed, stalling for time. She was no fool. And, of course, if she knew it, then Chase also knew it. The ground upon which Yin Ri walked was shaky. Her death was drawing ever near.

"Come now, Yin Ri." said Chase from behind her with a chuckle. He had read her thoughts. "Do not be so _morbid._"

The bottoms of his boots clicked against the floor and the echoes bounced off of the throne room's dark walls. "After all," he continued as he came to stand behind her. He lightly ran his fingers through her hair, fixing it to drape over her right shoulder, leaving the crook of her neck exposed. "Once you find the monks, your life will no longer be in jeopardy….At least until you _defy _me again."

"What do you want, Chase?" Yin Ri's bold voice croaked out from her rising wariness.

"What have I always wanted from you, Yin Ri?" Chase asked, lowering his face to kiss her shoulder with dry, warm lips. She could feel him smile against her shuddering skin.

"Your mask is off." he observed. "Why is that?"

"I am not on duty." was her disgusted reply. "I do not have to wear it."

She wanted to rip his face off. The thought gained another smile from him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, making her discomfort rise purely for his amusement. "Find me the monks," he whispered against her skin. "Or I'll make you do more than _just _kill Omi."

"There is nothing worse you can do to me than what you have already done."

She cried out in pain when he bit her. She ripped herself away from him and spun around, slapping a hand over the injury. She could feel the wetness of her own blood past the throbbing. Her heart pounded against her chest painfully as the adrenaline rushed into her ears.

Chase laughed while Yin Ri tied to catch her breath, eyes wide with enraged shock. The laugh was muffled by the blood roaring throughout her entire body, drowning out every other sense. Chase spread his arms wide, almost to embrace her, and said "Trust me. That is not the worst I can do."

Yin Ri backed away from where Chase stood and bumped into the Orb, making her jolt and look behind. She had forgotten that it was there.

"A bit jumpy tonight, now are we?" mocked Chase.

Yin Ri's eyes widened as she watched something dart across the screen.

_Guan_.

She whipped her head back and gave a defensive pout. She widened her stance to hide the orb's reflection from his line of sight. "You bit me." she told him bitterly, her heart still fluttering. It refused to slow down, not after that shock of pain she received.

Chase smiled. "Of course I did," he told her. "Do you not bite the other cats to warn them that they are stepping out of bounds?" The look in his eyes told her silently that it seemed as though animalistic violence was the only language she could understand nowadays.

Yin Ri straightened herself and pressed her back against the Orb, standing straight like a good little soldier. She brought her hand down from her shoulder and rubbed her bloody fingers together, all the while looking at him. She hoped her hand would divert his eyes away from the Orb behind her. "Aye, that I do." she admitted, looking from her hand to Chase again with an unimpressed sneer. "But a _King_ does not bite."

Chase stepped closer and Yin Ri, before he could see, tapped the Orb with the hand held behind her back and changed the view. Its gaze now rested upon the city, where all was quiet and other cats were on patrol. Chase was in her face now, his smile twisted into a frown. Both of his hands rested on the Orb behind her. "That is because," he said, "a King can do _more_ than just bite."

Yin Ri glared up at him. Her intentions to keep Chase from seeing Guan were protected by her more pressing need to wrap her painful wound. Instinct won over morals, after all. "_I know that_." she whispered, her Gaelic anger swirling behind her quiet voice. "_I've always known it_."

Yin Ri braced herself, her back arching to get away from him on instinct, as Chase leaned closer. His mouth rested on her temple. She could feel the dragon's influence on him- how it wanted to tear apart her throat. She could feel its bloodlust crawling up her skin, making her break into a cold sweat.

"Good." growled Chase, draconic rumbling coming up close behind his voice. He backed off, only giving her enough room to slip away. Glowering down, at her, he said "Now, _get out_."

Like a whore that had been paid for her services, Yin Ri slid off of the Orb and away from him with an ashamed glance out of the corner of her eye. She kept her eyes down cast as Chase snatched the mask she had hooked to her hip and handed it to her. "Don't let me see you without it again." he warned with a bitter grumble.

She placed it upon her face gently as he watched her, being sure that her movements were slow and steady. She had turned her mind completely off to him, like a child scorned, which hopefully he read in her eyes that burned bitterly with a tear or two. She walked away from Chase without so much as a glance back.

She arched her back and stiffened her shoulders, walking with long and dignified strides. He would not know of her treachery this time, she decided. She would be careful. She would catch him off guard. To protect the people, she would have to outdo him, even if it meant her own demise.

After all, she was a clever actress.

* * *

"Did anyone follow you?" asked Jermaine when Guan found him at the abandoned high school.

"No." said Guan, ever serious. Worry lines etched grooves into his brow and a tired frown accented the shadows on his cheeks. "I found no survivors, either."

"Neither did I," admitted Jermaine. He looked into one of the broken windows of the school bitterly. It became the new rendezvous point for their scouting missions under Kimiko's orders. She considered it a safe place, which Jermaine had written off with a scoff. Children had been massacred here, picked off one by one as they were being stalked in its narrow halls by Chase's cats like sheep trapped in their pen. _Safe indeed_.

"We must keep moving, Jermaine." Guan told him, walking past him to climb through the open window. Jermaine followed him with a silent nod.

Despite being a death trap to the unlucky teens who had once roamed about the place, the school's long corridors and poor lighting served as good cover against any of Chase's own scouts that would be out looking for them. However, knowing that so many people had died here, young people no less, filled Jermaine with a sense of dread whenever he found himself under the school's towering gaze.

It reminded him of the school he used to attend, the same school he most likely would have died in if he hadn't decided to take up a year abroad in China for his school's Star Program. That decision had ultimately saved his life.

At first, Jermaine thought twice about returning to China, remembering quite well that his welcome was less than warm when he and Omi had met again. But, he truly did love the culture and felt more at home with his boarding family and the other students he had traveled with than he did back in New York.

He had a happy family, of course; his mother, father, and little sister, but he just felt something click when he was with his bunkmates. They had helped him to fully discover himself and his love for Anthropology. They were all as close as brothers to him, and all had hopes of going to college and possibly even joining a research team together when they found themselves in the field. They reminded him that his dreams had meant something to not only him, but to them as well. They were his second family.

He could not think of them, though. Not now. Jermaine needed to focus solely on the mission. He could not afford to summon ghosts.

His mind returned to the present as he and Guan ran alongside each other, the slapping of their feet hitting the tiles echoing down the corridors. Guan had gained the advantage on him, since Jermaine's thoughts had slowed him down. The crackling of the static over the radio at his side made him jump and slow pace.

"Jermaine, Guan," came Kimiko's faint voice through the whirring and snapping. "Do you copy?"

Guan stopped at the farther end of the hall when he heard the walkie talkie crack. He stared back at Jermaine grimly. Jermaine unhooked the walkie from his jeans pocket and pressed the stuck button with a click to answer her. "Yes," he answered. "We're at the rendezvous. What happened?"

"You need to return to base." said Kimiko, the crackling cutting her words into thinly sliced sections. "Get as many supplies above ground as you can."

"Don't worry," assured Jermaine, the pit of his stomach dropping at her suggestion. "We've already got that covered. We'll see you at base camp."

He hooked the walkie back onto his pocket and turned to Guan, who stood as still and as wary as a deer about to flee. "What did she tell you?" Guan asked him.

Jermaine joined him and took a second backpack of the three Guan had strapped across his broad back. "She's ordered us to return home," Jermaine said with a rare smile. "Not like we weren't already on our way."

Guan turned away form Jermaine as he tried reaching for a third backpack to lighten the elder man's load; Jermaine's smile dropped when he noticed the healed over scars that striped his bare back, still red from their recent healing. He knew that Guan was just being stubborn and the young man could not blame him. The only possession that anyone who considered themselves free had left in this world was their pride.

That knowledge was the only thing that held Jermaine back from calling Guan out for not taking it easy to rest his back. The man had received those gashes while saving Jermaine's life from a tiger several weeks back. It was a life debt that was piling ever high since day one, with each mission, the more and more Guan risked his own safety to keep Jermaine covered from spies and scouts.

It seemed that the old Master held Jermaine's life in higher regard than his own. This unsettled Jermaine more than it comforted him.

* * *

"Just stick to what we planned, Jack." Kimiko told him, her face unamused as Jack smiled with mischievous delight. He bit into a meager sandwich of lettuce and bread, the spoils of Guan and Jermaine's enterprise, with hearty vigor.

"I know what I'm doing," he told her with a shoulder brush-off as he chewed. "It's not like I don't know how to grovel. I'm the king of worms, remember?"

Kimiko folded her arms and leaned against the tunnel's wall, which Jack chose to discern that he could keep eating.

"An' _what_ is this plan again, exactly?" It was Clay who asked this, making Jack's attention turn to him.

His hair was shaggier, if it were possible, and longer too. The golden sheen was dimmed and he looked more like a buff surfer boy by the length of it than a cowboy. It helped that his hat was no longer around. All that was left to point out his Southern roots was his accent. Jack was pleased by this. He had always hated that hat…on _Clay_, anyway.

"The plan is simple, Rodeo clown," Jack told him, unable to help teasing the ex-cowboy like old times. "I go in, I gain Chase's trust, I learn a few things, then I mosey on out."

Clay glared at him, or Jack thought he was. That man's bangs were as hirsute as a sheep dog's. "An' jus' what're ya' supposed to gain his trust with?"

Jack carefully unthreaded the Mending Needle from its place pinned into the right sleeve of his jacket. He pinched it between his fingers and presented it proudly to all of those present, none but Omi seemed impressed. This threw off Jack's groove a bit, but that did not deter his confidence.

"The Mending Needle?" asked Omi. He was sitting against the wall beside Clay. He stood shakily from his seat on the hard ground. "But I thought that it had been lost."

He walked over when Jack held it out for him, and gently took it from the elder boy's hand. Oddly enough, the boy had grown a bit taller. He grew up to just below Jack's shoulder now. His body, albeit the fact that he was still alarmingly short, had caught up with his age. However, Omi was far too thin and his skin was pale. Jack knew that it was partly his fault. Despite trying to help him all those years ago, his nano bots had not fully done their job. Whatever Chase's cat had done to him had lingered in his systems and kept Omi's body from reaching its full potential.

Jack's face fell a bit as he watched Omi study the Needle. "The last time I saw this," said the boy with tired regret. "Chase found me in the museum and took it out from under my nose."

He handed it back to Jack. Jack reached for it, but Omi held on to it and looked into Jack's eyes, warning laced through the black hematite of his. The intensity of them was brought out more prominently by the sickly dark circles beneath them. "And I promised myself that he would not get to it again while the world was in danger of his tyranny."

Jack understood what Omi's eyes were asking him. He silently promised the boy that if something went wrong, he would destroy the Needle before Chase could use it. "It'll be okay." he told Omi gently.

"No," said Guan. "Nothing will be alright so long as Chase Young is still alive."

"And as long as he is," said Kimiko, anger sharpening her voice. "We're going to need Jack to infiltrate his citadel under cover so we can figure out just what his plan is."

"And so _long_ as Chase Young is alive," added Guan again, shooting a look to Kimiko. "No one is safe."

A light bulb went off in Jack's brain at the look Kimiko shot back to the old Master. There was something going on between those two. Jack could smell a power struggle a mile off. It was one of his many talents as an ex-groveling worm. He could exploit this; play those two off of each other if the need would ever arise for him to.

"Don't worry, don't worry," Jack told them, holding his hands up. His smile spread wide. "I'm an expert at this kind of stuff. The only person better than me at this is _Wuya_."

"Speaking _of _Wuya," interjected Kimiko. "She knows all of your little tricks. How are you so sure you'll be able to fool her _and_ Chase?"

"I've come crawling back to them before," answered Jack with a shrug. "This time will most likely seem no different to either of them."

"I _still_ say he's playin' fer the other team," grumbled Clay. "How're we so sure that he's not jus' gonna give them _our_ plans and location?"

"He's right," added Jermaine, who for the most part had been silently observing. "We all know what Chase would give to find this place."

"I believe him."

They all turned to Omi, who had slumped back against the wall. He looked very tired and drained; his neck was arched to lean his head back against the wall and his eyes focused on Jack from below heavy eyelids. "Raimundo trusted him," said Omi. "And so do I."

* * *

**Author's note:**

**I'm so sorry for such depressing chapters, but I need to get the sad stuff out of the way ( since it explains some back story and frames the mood of the fic) before I really dive into the plot. Seriously, I'm sorry for putting you all through this. But, hey, Apocalypses are never easy. Next chapter the ball finally begins to roll down hill. Rapidly. Hold on to your butts because Jack's back story is coming up, as well as a few very unpleasant Chase things (Just fair warning. I made this fic M in the case of it). **

**But, Anyway, thanks for reading. I'll be seeing you all in Chase's citadel next. **


	3. Inganno

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Inganno

_(n.) Deception_

_Three__

"Please, Chase!" cried Jack. "Please, please let me come back here! Please! You have no idea what it's like out there!"

"I had rather hoped that you _did not_ survive my initial take over." scoffed Chase. "But I suppose now I can safely say that the axiom "_cockroaches cannot be killed_" is no longer a myth."

The tiger at his side writhed its tail back and forth, growling at the boy that lay at its master's feet. Jack eyed it warily, making sure to keep his distance from the mangy thing despite his attempts to wrap his arms around Chase's legs. The tiger scuttled back as he grappled his hands around Chase's ankles. It eyed him unhappily with a suspicious growl.

"Let _go_," said Chase. "Or I might just throw you to one of my pets."

The tiger beside him seemed to grin with the expectation that it would be the animal he would be fed to.

"_Please_, Chase!" he cried again, his clever ruse being egged on by his fear of the terrifying thing. "_PLEASE_! I'll do _whatever_ you want!_ ANYTHING_! Just _don't_ make me go back out there!"

"Get off." snipped Chase, shaking his leg. To himself, he added "I should just _kill_ you and save myself the trouble."

_Crap_. "No, wait!" cried Jack, releasing Chase like he had just touched a hot plate. He lifted himself up, ignoring the tile groves that painfully dug into his knees from the pressure. "Wait a minute! I have something you might like! If you let me stay, I'll give it to you!"

"What could I _possibly want_ from _you_?"

Showtime. Jack unpinned the Mending Needle from the lining of his sleeve and presented it to Chase, earning a poorly hidden mark of surprise on the smug man's face.

"The Mending Needle!" cried Wuya before Chase could speak. "I thought it had been lost!"

She eyed it hungrily and made a grab for it, but Jack evaded her clawed fingers with a playful jerk of his arm back. He hid it behind him and turned his eyes back to Chase. This was Chase's choice, not Wuya's. He could care less about her.

Wuya glared at Jack, though she was unsurprised by his defiance. She turned to Chase with green eyes flashing "Just say yes so we can have it!" she urged with a greedy hiss.

Chase held up a hand to silence her. "What is it you _really_ want, Spicer?" he asked.

"I-I, I just need a place to stay," Jack fidgeted, turning his eyes to the floor. His heart began to race. He knew that Chase was no idiot. He needed to tread more carefully; Chase could see through his ruse like cellophane. That sharpness was what had drawn Jack to him in the first place; that and his hair. He was perfect in every way.

"Five years is enough for me." he admitted. "_I_...I want to come back."

That was not a _total_ lie, not really.

Five years _had_ been enough for him. Wandering the outskirts of a ruined city, foraging garbage from patrol areas just to barely survive on the scraps of slaves, yes. It had been enough. He was sick of living like the cockroach Chase believed him to be. He wanted to be something more. "..Please. It's all I want."

"Never mind," said Wuya with a roll of her eyes and a spoiled pout to her lips. "You're right; let's just kill him."

Chase smiled and seemed to consider it. The tiger beside him growled.

"I'll clean your house! I'll even wash your underwear!" Jack panicked. He broke into a sob, clinging to Chase's legs again. This was not good. True fear fueled his hysteria now. "Please, just let me stay here!"

Chase managed to pry him off and Jack slid to the floor like a wet towel. He buried his face into his arms to hide his laughter. Jack was giggling half from deliria and half from practically playing Chase and Wuya like fools. He hoped that Chase would mistake his shaking shoulders and snickers for pathetic whimpers. He snorted, nearly giving himself away. The shock of that thought made Jack force his shoulders still. He held his breath.

"Though I would rather you _not_ touch my under things," drawled Chase. "I _suppose_ I could use you…_somewhere_. I've been _short-staffed_ as of late."

Sucker.

Jack smiled while Chase still could not see his face. He took a deep, shuddering breath. Time for the finale.

He whipped his head back up and frantically whipped at his face, being sure to give Chase his best kicked-puppy look. Jack widened his eyes innocently before bursting into a full-blown grin. "THANK YOU!" he cried. "THANK YOU! _THANK YOU_! I won't let you down, CY!" He latched on to Chase's legs again and began kissing his boots, streaming _thank you's_ from his lips between his groveling.

Chase grabbed his face and tossed him to the floor, but Jack was unfazed. He was too giddy. Sure, his shoulder would be bruised and sore in the morning, but his plan had worked. It _worked._

"Yin Ri shall see you to your room." Chase told Jack indifferently, plucking the Mending Needle from Jack's hand. The tiger that stood beside Chase began to transform once he had spoken.

The woman stood short, the top of her head just barely reaching below the shield covering Chase's right shoulder. Her hair, however, made up in sheer mass what she had lacked in height. The tangled, black curls of it trickled down to just below her knees. A strange length for that of a warrior but, then again, Chase's own hair was not any less short. Her kimono-like dress was the same color of traditional dark green that Chase's own armor donned, but it was the mask this strange woman wore that caught the majority of Jack's attention.

It was formed into the shape of a cat's head, ears and all, with one side of its face grey and the other half white. Around the eyes, the opposite color of each side had been painted. A red stripe split the mask down the middle curiously, disrupting the symmetry of the piece and drawing his eye to the center where two silver eyes peeked out at him luridly from behind the glossy wood. He had seen those eyes before.

"Now go," said Chase, braking Jack from his concentration on the woman's eyes. "And do not disturb me unless I summon you."

Then, Chase added with a grumble, "If you have any questions, you can just ask _Wuya._"

"Hey." was Wuya's half-hearted complaint.

Jack watched as Chase studied the Needle intently, dark delight sparking the amber in his eyes with a golden glow. He became transfixed by the shadow of Dragon king's pleased smile and wondered. If Ariela was dead, then the thing should have been useless to him. So, why was Chase smiling so eagerly?

Yin Ri, the woman with the mask, gently took Jack's arm and guided him away, leaving Chase to his new treasure and Wuya to her sulking.

* * *

The corridor was lined with candles that did nothing to ward off the darkness save forcing Jack to squint his eyes against the flames that caught his eye. A draft chilled Jack's neck from behind as Yin Ri walked ahead with loud, determined steps. She led him down a second hallway where the angle of it gave Jack the impression that they were descending down into the core of the mountain. But, as they emerged from the dark hallway, after Jack shielded his eyes from the light, he found that they had in actuality ascended.

Truthfully, they had risen to another floor. The large, open room served almost like a wrap-around porch. The ceiling above was nowhere to be seen, swallowed by the black of the higher parts of the cavern, but spread out before him and beyond was a tile floor that stopped short at an ivory banister. Jack went to it immediately, feeling like a child at the aquarium or the zoo. Below the ornate barrier lay a grassy knoll where cats of many species lounged about napping or wandering around, awaiting their next orders or their fellows to return from shifts as the city watch.

Most were the heavy muscle of lions and tigers with a few panthers scattered between. A lioness or two nipped at the ears of their male counterparts and a cougar, once or twice, would bat a paw at one of the smaller jaguars or young leopards.

"This is where many of us sleep," said the mysterious woman. Her ringing, light voice spooked Jack and he turned to face her.

She was leaning against the side of the wall opposite of him, watching the boy idly with her arms folded across her chest. His new companion was enjoying the view from on high at a safe distance. Jack wondered if this could be one of her weaknesses. Yin Ri did not seem to be afraid of heights, but then again, he could not tell much of her with that mask in the way of reading her face. She lifted her chin in his direction, the alpha sizing up the new meat.

The display reminded him of Ariela. His heart hurt at the sudden memory of his sister's same mannerisms. His mind's eye played a trick and Yin Ri's hair flashed to red in his eyes for a moment. Her eyes became brown and the mask melted away into a wily grin and mischievously raised eyebrows. But, the phantom faded when the masked warrior spoke again, reminding Jack of where he was.

"This side of the house," Yin Ri explained with eyes that held him under silver scrutiny, "is where the majority of the residents find their sleeping quarters. Wuya lives on the floor above us in a _private _suite, if you would care to know."

The accent that hung on just slightly to the coattails of her disgruntled drawl hinted to Jack that Wuya had demanded the room rather than had received it from her gracious host's kind hospitality.

A sudden thought hit him; one that could prove to be very substantial to his revenge. "Does Chase-"

"I said the _majority_, not all." Yin Ri interrupted, a tiger like growl clipping the end of her sentence off and splitting hairs on the back of Jack's neck. "He lives on the other side."

"Just him?" Jack asked a little too eagerly.

Yin Ri stiffened and Jack caught his smile, but it was too late. Yin Ri saw the chink in his cleverly designed armor. Her eyes flashed white and her gaze was steely. It was haunting, those eyes staring at him without a face attached. "Why are you so _curious_ to know?" she demanded.

In his mind's eye, Jack saw her as a tiger ready to spring and tear out his throat. She probably would, given the chance. The way she hungrily eyed him earlier, while still clad in fur, told him as much. He would have to be careful with this one. She was quick and just about as willing to kill him as Jack was to kill Chase.

"Um, duh," said Jack with a silly shrug and a loopy smile in attempts to cover his tracks, "evil idol obsession over here, remember? I might wanna…snatch a few _souvenirs_…?"

She was not buying it.

"I ran you out for that last time." she snipped, the strange accent returning in full spring. It was not so much Irish as it was Welsh, but a hint of something else lay beneath it. "It is why Chase did not want to have you back."

"Ran me out?" Right. The tiger. He forgot for a moment that she was one.

"Which leads me back to my _earlier_ question," she said, ignoring him. The dangerous growl and strange accent returned. "Why are you so curious about my master's sleeping quarters?"

Grappling for the correct words that would get her off of his case, Jack broke eye contact to try and think, at the same time looking vulnerable. But, as his eyes wandered, a gleam peaking out from the lining of Yin Ri's kimono caught his eye. A sudden rage seized him when he realized what it was.

Ariela's locket. This woman, the _pet _of her murderer, had the present he had given his sister.

"Where did you get that?" Jack sipped. He had dropped his intimidated, worm-like façade for emotions far darker.

Yin Ri said nothing, but slowly reached up to touch the locket with gloved fingers. Her eyes were trained on him with quiet dignity. He was beneath her and deserved no answer, the silver of her cat-like eyes seemed to say.

"That's the locket I gave Ariela." continued Jack, his anger rising and his childish mask dropping with each passing second. His voice rose. "Why do you have it?"

Yin Ri took a long time in answering. With a slow shrug, she answered. He voice was light and rolling, like a song; "Why not?"

"It isn't yours." he growled. He held out his hand to her, demanding with red fire in his eyes that she obey him. "Give it to me."

Her mannerisms turned a one-eighty and Jack could feel an ice cold chill when she stared at him, clutching the locket around her neck protectively. Dangerously, quietly, she told him "You are not the only one who loved your sister."

"That's a lie!" he spat, still holding out his hand to take it from her. "Give it to me!"

"Is it?" her eyes flashed from behind the mask with haughty, silver amusement.

"Shut up!"

"I would watch your tongue, boy." It was disgusting how prettily the words rolled off of her tongue. He could imagine her smiling wickedly at him from behind the mask. He wanted to spit on her arrogant face. "You are not the _only_ one with secrets."

Jack panicked, his anger towards Yin Ri draining and dissolving into very rational fear. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Watch your step, Spicer, or Chase will catch up to your silly little plan." she told him sternly. "And, believe you me, he _will_. It is only a matter of time."

Her words hollowed him and Jack felt empty. She was a word-eater, this one. She had swallowed his prepared retort with a simple and dangerous truth. He felt empty from it.

"Is that a threat?" he asked.

He was not as foolish as she thought, or as he himself thought, for that matter. Yin Ri would most likely rat him out to Chase in an instant if he gave her the motive to, and Jack knew it. No one from the Haylin could resist sucking up to Chase. Not even him.

"A warning."

Jack clenched his fists. The very sound of her voice, filled with false kindness, had mocked him. He thought of Ariela and how the same treatment could have been given to her by this deceiving cat up until her death, filling her with false promises and lies laced with hope.

"I'm not afraid of you!" he shouted, the memory of brave, foolish Ariela fueling him. He would not be tricked, not like her.

From behind the mask, Yin Ri's eyes narrowed unhappily. She shrugged herself off of the wall and walked towards him, shortening the distance between them with long, slow strides. Jack inched back as the woman stepped closer. She stood to just below the bridge of his nose as she looked up at him, arms crossed arrogantly. "Then why do I see fear hiding behind those determined eyes of yours?" she whispered with a tilt of her head. "_Hmn_?"

She walked past him then, brushing his shoulder lightly with her hand. "Your room is on the second floor; just above us," she added, " fourth one to the left."

He turned to watch her go.

"I would be careful if I were you, Jack, _whatever_ it is you are doing," she told him without so much as a glance behind. Her voice echoed off of the empty chamber and sang like a wind chime. "Like I said, Chase will catch up to you eventually. He _always _does."

* * *

**Author's note:**

_**Dialect and Accents**_**-****I've always thought of Tala/Yin Ri's accent (albeit very slight unless she is extremely emotional) as Scottish or Irish with a hint of German, which is why I had decided simply to call it **_**Gaelic**_** on account of her father coming from the earlier peoples of those regions around the time of 200BCE (And, don't worry, Carel's geological and ethnical background will be further explained with more details in **_**Two Tigers **_**when I publish it on here later). Whatever it was, this mix of these three different accents was closest to the accent for Tala, Reagen and Carel in my head, but I found out recently through my daily escapades Youtube that it's actually Welsh (which sounds nothing like German, so I have no idea why I had that in the mix at all).  
In my mind, and as it has been explained to death by this point, Tala's voice is light and airy with a musical ring to it. But, her r's had always been rolled (though I never technically tell you guys that in my writing) which led me down the road of accepting her voice as a softer Karen Gillian for her "voice claim." But, even that wound up not fully explaining her voice to me, since Karen (though I love her to death) has a more earthy tone to her voice and Tala's had always been more airy to me. This 'airiness' accidentally, and happily, lead me to connect her more fully to the air element I had her assigned to in AAO. But, up until now, I had no idea that the airiness was really from a Welsh accent and not just one of her quirks. So, yes, I've been unconsciously lying about the accent the entire time. Whoops. In short, I dun goofed. I hope you'll all forgive me for that. Even with my prior research on Carel's part, it's really funny how I didn't figure out the Welsh thing. Ah, but now I know so much better for Carel so I can narrow down my research on his people and customs.  
Good thing Jack's more savvy about different accents than I am. It must be the rich parents and all those fancy parties (haha).  
(And his backstory is coming up VERY soon, I promise)**


	4. Induratize

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Induratize

(v.) _To harden one's heart_

_Four__

Omi gave a deep breath. He sucked in air slowly as he brought his hands together and closed his eyes. This time, he promised himself. This time, he would follow the move through. The pain would not stop him.

He arched his hands over his head and spread his legs apart, preparing himself with deliberately soft movements. He would not rush this one, no matter how eager he was to test his shoulder muscles the moment he felt the stretching of them without the usual shock and sting that came with the extended forms.

Omi sighed, pulling his arm back as steady as a bowman, sure to keep his back straight and his elbow aligned with his shoulder. He followed through with the move slowly, pushing his flattened palm down as he pressed against an invisible force rising up to meet him from the tunnel's floor.

He kicked his leg back and turned at an angle, pulling the other arm back towards his chest, but it was a fatal mistake. Omi's breath sharpened between his teeth as he hissed and grabbed his shoulder. A spasm ran through it and forced the muscles to lock and paralyze his entire arm. He fell to his knees from the pain, gaining another spasm in his middle back and ripping another sharp gasp from him. Omi gritted his teeth and with his last good arm, reached around to soothe his screaming spine.

Breathing hard, trying to calm himself down long enough to focus on standing instead of on the pain, Omi stared hard at the floor. "No," he challenged himself with a rumble rising up from his parched throat. "You cannot let this stop you. You are Xiaolin Dragon of the Water; the defender of Justice."

Silently, he added, '_You can't protect anyone like this_.'

"Omi."

Omi whipped his head up, his heart sinking as he saw Guan standing there. There was pity in the old man's eyes; always pity. Ever since Omi had fallen ill, that look had been there, trained upon him with a steady and sympathetic gaze.

"Master Monk Guan," said Omi, struggling to bow in the awkward position in which Guan had found him. Guan raised a hand to stop him, but it was too late. Another spasm shivered up Omi's back at the deeper bend. His entire body clenched. Guan noticed and had a soothing, warm hand pressed against the boy's bony spine within half a second.

"Breathe," Guan coached him, as he had many times before. "The pain will pass."

The gentleness of his touch unknowingly filled Omi's heart with sadness. He began to cry, feeling hopeless in spite of Guan's encouragement. "I cannot do this anymore," Omi choked. "It hurts too much. I am useless."

"You are not." Guan's voice was hard and full of offense, as if it where the old master whom Omi had called useless.

"But I am!" Omi argued defiantly. "I can hardly lift my arms to train, _let alone_ fight! Every time I move, my body fills itself with pain! How can I help my friends bring Chase_ down_ if I cannot aid them in battle?"

Guan gripped Omi by his shoulders and forced the boy to stare him in the eyes.

"Stop it," he demanded. "Stop this _at once_."

"If I had not been so rash those years ago, if I had not rushed into that battle so carelessly," Omi continued deafly, taking in ragged breaths the more he struggled for air past the spasms. "I would no have been hurt, and Raimundo could still be alive. I could have helped him. I could have _saved_ him."

"_Omi_," Guan told him sternly. "_Enough_. There is no use blaming yourself. The past is the past, no matter how much you _so desperately_ long to change it."

"I was reckless," Omi insisted. "And my consequences held me back when I was needed most."

"I said _enough_." repeated Guan. Omi set his jaw stubbornly, heat building behind his eyes as he watched Guan's face fall. When Guan spoke again, his face was soft and sad. "You remind me of someone I once knew a long time ago."

Guan helped the boy pull himself to his feet as they both stood and Omi noticed the pale old scars on Guan's arms reflect off the dim glow of the gaslights that lit the dark chamber.

"You blame yourself," Guan continued, "for things you cannot control or change; just as shedid."

"Who?"

"Tala," said Guan. Omi's heart sank and his face dropped as he slowly let the name sink in. "Have I not told you of her before?"

Yes, Omi had heard that name before, but not from Guan's lips. The image of a tiny and time-worn statue bounced up vividly against his mind's eye. The woman's statue held her arms out mockingly to him, reminding the young monk of his failure to keep the Mending Needle away from Chase Young. "…I have heard of her." he admitted hollowly.

"You are lucky," said Guan. "Not many have."

They stared at the flickering yellow of the gaslight on the opposite wall for a short while, the hollow hissing of the lamp filling the silence in the small distance between.

"She was my friend," Guan suddenly spoke with a quietness that quickened a stifled yawn to Omi's throat. "Mine…and Chase's_._"

Omi felt awoken from a trance when Guan began his tale; his eyelids fluttered from their unconscious drooping. He said nothing and listened, feeling like a young child again; nostalgic for the tales of heroes Master Fung would tell to him while he was still quite small.

"She was the Xiaolin Dragon of Air, like Raimundo," said Guan. "Or, she would have been if she had not died. And, as her element commanded, she was the very picture of fortitude."

"Fortitude." Omi repeated, letting the word roll off his tongue.

Just as the Dragon of Water was the defender of Justice, the Fire of Passion, and the Earth of Resolve, the Dragon of Air was the protector of human Fortitude; of strength and ambition. Yes, Raimundo had been the same.

His strength had shown through his leadership and kindness. He had over come many obstacles to become the leader they had needed, even resisting the dark forces of the Haylin side. Raimundo was, in Omi's opinion, the very definition of fortitude.

"Tala was stubborn and selfish at times, often as a result of her struggles and her naïveté of the world around her," continued Guan, "but she had a heart that bled for any unhappiness she witnessed and locked that pain inside of her to keep it away from those she knew could not bear it. She was a kind girl."

"That is not fortitude as I have known it." Omi told him. "Fortitude is strength and courage. It is cowardly to hide emotions. There is no strength or honor in it."

"A woman's bravery can rival any man's, Omi," Guan said, smiling down at him. "_and_, I've found, their strength is not so different from ours."

Guan slid down the wall with a heavy sigh and looked up towards the black ceiling. "It was not by her physical strength that she was strong, but by her spirit and willingness to bear her pain, _all_ pain, in fact, in silence. She hid many things from us and bore many hardships to keep her friends from seeing any hurt or sadness. Tala did what she thought in her own eyes was right. But, even the keeper of fortitude cannot bear the weight of the world on their own, no matter how stubborn they are. Sometimes, something can slide off of their backs and they can be crushed. Or, worse still, someone they love can be hurt by it…Tala did not realize that until it was too late."

Now it was Omi who looked down at him. "What happened?"

"She hid something she was not meant to," said Guan. "and once it came out into the open, many people were hurt, including her. You see, Omi, Tala thought that she was doing a kindness by hiding her thoughts and feelings, not knowing that by doing so she had cost herself a valuable friend…and gained herself a terrible enemy."

Omi's eyes widened. "Chase Young?"

Guan nodded.

"Chase told me once that when Tala got in his way," said Omi, "she had become erased from history."

"She did," said Guan. "But not by his hand. Not directly."

"I do not understand."

Guan closed his eyes with a soft sigh. "Some people cannot trust things they do not comprehend."

"Chase said that too."

"The Temple leaders never truly cared for Tala." explained Guan. "They erased her from history upon learning of her death. They recorded the Air Dragon of my time as undiscovered."

"So I was told."

With a voice more sad than bitter, Guan added "She was a hero. She lead Chase away from the Temple and saved all of our lives, yet they destroyed any image of her existence. They called her a monster and a traitor; a _witch._"

Omi was in shock at his words. "I never knew that."

"In a way, you remind me of her, of her kindness and her loving heart. She saw the good in many things, as you do." Guan was rambling now, or so it seemed. With a soft laugh, he said "and oh how _terrible_ that girl was when whipped up in a temper. You could see the fire spring up from her eyes. She was wild when in a frenzy."

"You were close to her." More a statement than a question, but Omi was still curious of his relationship with the mysterious, lost monk.

"We all were; Chase, Dashi, and me." Guan chocked with a smile. He seemed so young with that grin on his face, though his cheeks had gone red from mixed emotions of another kind.

"She connected you all."

"No," said Guan. "No, _that_ was Dashi. He was the glue that held us together and brought us close. Tala, however, she was something else. We cheered her on every step of the way, all of us. She was our underdog. She proved to me and to many others that strength can come from anywhere."

"She sounded like a kind person," Omi noted, "but kindness and strength are two _very _different things, Master Guan."

"_Are _they?" Guan laughed. "Shall I be calling _you_ master now, Omi?"

Omi's cheeks reddened and Guan's smile dropped.

"You learn quite a lot from someone you've trained with over long periods of time," Guan continued. "You know their next move just by looking into their eyes; you can see the soul, and looking into those eyes every day, you begin to understand that soul. It speaks to yours directly. As her sparring partner, I looked into that soul of hers daily and because of it, I knew her more than Chase and Dashi ever could."

A bubble rose into Omi's chest from all of this talk of souls. It felt too intimate. He was not sure what it meant or why he had felt that way, but a question formed on his lips that he knew needed answering. "Did you love her?"

"In a way, I did." admitted Guan. "As I said, the more time you spend with someone's soul, the more you learn about their true nature. _And_, the more I learned of _her_, the more I began to respect her strength. She silently bore the criticisms of our masters and achieved greatness despite the world seemingly being pitted against her at every turn. Her soul, that silent strength and perseverance, was a thing I could admire."

"But," said Omi again, "did you _love_ her?"

Guan looked at Omi for a half second, a faint smile on his lips and a far away gleam to his eye. Finally, Guan's small smirk spread out into a toothy grin. The man shook his head. "No," he said with a small chuckle. "No, I didn't. She was my friend; my _very good_ friend, but that was all we were to one another."

Omi felt a little disappointment, though he was not sure as to why. "Nothing more?"

"Yes," said Guan. "Nothing more."

Silence hummed between them for a while, but it was a pleasant feeling. Omi slid down the wall to join Guan on the ground and he sighed tiredly. He regretted the decision immediately afterwards, knowing that any sudden movement when he decided to stand again could cause another round of painful spasms in his back. He tried to focus his thoughts on other things; he knew Guan grew weary with each answer. But, one question stayed at the forefront of his mind. He had to ask.

"What did she do?"

Guan looked at him, a little surprised. He smiled nonetheless. "What?"

"What did Tala do," asked Omi, "to lose Chase Young's friendship?"

Guan's smile dropped and he turned his gaze away. "She loved another man."

* * *

It was with much resentment that Yin Ri prepared the tray for the princess; with the finest delicacies and the choicest fruits cluttered elegantly together on a shining silver platter, decadent and, as Yin Ri noted with a roll of her eyes, utterly nauseating. She carefully stacked the fruit onto the tray, small chocolates and cakes wedged between every crevice and corner. She wanted to vomit at the sight of them.

Her shoulder still ached where the bite wound had turned red around the edges and the blood had scabbed over. She had disinfected it as best as she could, where the awkward angle would allow, but she could not bear to inspect the brutish thing in a mirror. She knew that she would not have been able to stomach the memory that would come with the sight of it.

Chase grew more savage every day. He was slowly becoming more dragon than man.

She looked to the cabinet beside her. With little thought, she yanked it open. Her breath rushed out of her at the sight of the darkness, one last can standing in front of her face. The final batch; her last chance at survival. Yes, he _would_ become an animal, and Yin Ri knew that it would be _she _who would pay the price. At least her death would be the first and, hopefully, the swiftest.

She closed the cabinet. She would serve it tonight. Perhaps, she could ration it and keep him steady a little while longer. Of course, in smaller doses the potion would take longer to have effect and all the more quickly to recede. But, she had no choice. She would use lemon balm to make him sleep longer periods if she must; she could not allow for Chase to become a monster. Not any more than he already was.

No! She growled at herself and shook the thought away. There would be no soft feelings here! He _was_ a monster! He destroyed her life! Killed and corrupted everything she had ever cherished! She held no love for the man now!

Despite telling herself this, as she had every night since her capture, Yin Ri knew it were not so. She still yet cared for Chase and her guilt for the creature he became rode upon her shoulders just as heavily as the day he drank the potion and donned that demon's skin. For her crimes, she had become his caretaker and made sure that he kept his darkness at bay with each dose. She was atoning for both of their sins.

With a heavy sigh and a disgusted swallow of her own thoughts, Yin Ri picked up the tray. She needed to stop this. Blaming herself would do little good for her or for anyone now. She focused her mind on other things and let the kitchen door swing on its hinges behind her.

* * *

Yin Ri found Cassandra in her room, as usual. The girl was sullen, inspecting herself in the ornate full-length mirror hanging upon her purple wall. She was, with the help of one of the female warriors, trying on a new dress sent to her by Chase.

The sleeveless jade tumbled down her body like drapes, elegantly splitting down and fanning at the base of the princess's neck to reveal the red silk beneath. It dragged upon the floor behind her, not yet tailored to her height. The serving girl, Nirasa, Yin Ri believed, though she was not so good with remembering the names of people she had little concerning with, was tugging at the dress just below Cassandra's ankle and was aptly kicked upside the head by Cassandra when her golden eyes met Yin Ri's in the mirror. Cassandra smiled.

"He's sent me another plate of sweets, has he?" she asked with delight, no doubt relishing the attention she was receiving from their king she had long before been refused.

Yin Ri said nothing and placed the tray upon the little writing desk in the corner of the large room. Her eyes darted to poor Nirasa, a lioness turned red head. The girl's brown eyes told Yin Ri all that she needed to know about why the sad and pathetic thing was playing handmaiden to her princess.

Cassandra jumped down from her stool and rushed over to the plate, quickly plucking a plum from it. She bit into it with innocent delight, reminding Yin Ri of her princess as a child; when she could still fit into her nanny-cat's arms. She nearly reached out to pet the girl's hair, but thought better of it.

A playful smile found its way across Cassandra's face as she pressed her lips against the plum a second time. "Did my father send for me?" she asked.

"No," said Yin Ri, "But he sends his regards and regrets to have me inform you that he shall be dining alone this evening."

Cassandra pouted and let the plum hang loosely in her hand. Sadly, she looked to the floor.

"Does he, now?" she murmured.

"I am sorry, your highness." She truly meant this.

Yin Ri gently took the plum form Cassandra's hand. Immediately, Cassandra's eyes darted upward and glared yellow. Her loose hand formed a tight fist as she held her temper in check. Cassandra whirled around and folded her arms. "It doesn't matter," she snipped. "There's _always _tomorrow. I'm busy, anyway."

Yin Ri rolled her eyes at Cassandra's childishness, grateful that the girl's back was turned, and placed the plum back down onto the tray. She noticed that Cassandra's desk had become cluttered. Papers had been stacked and unsettled every which way and about, every line on every page filled with Cassandra's neat scrawlings. There were even some sketches, most small scribbles here and there.

But, a charcoal drawing peeking out from the pile caught her eye. he gently picked it up and, to her sorry surprise, she saw the short, choppy hair and wily grin and knew. Yin Ri unconsciously touched the bump of the locket that rose up through the fabric of her neckline.

Cassandra missed her too.

Trapped in her sudden mourning, Yin Ri did not know that Cassandra had turned around again. And, that by doing so, Cassandra had noticed the mark her father had left on Yin Ri's shoulder. Her fury was a torrent.

"You bitch!" screeched the princess.

Nirasa crawled away to the farthest corner of the room and out of the princess's reach.

Cassandra was upon Yin Ri in an instant, slashing at her with claw-tipped fingers. Yin Ri was only just swift enough to hold the girl's dangerous hands inches away from her mask. Cassandra tried to wrestle, kicking and flailing. "Is _this_ why he will not dine with me tonight? _Will he be too busy with you_?!"

"Calm down!" snarled Yin Ri, pushing her away. Cassandra fell and wrapped her hands around one of the wooden poles of her bed frame, marring the dark wood with pale scars as her claws dug into them. Furiously, her lungs begged for air, and the girl's fangs were bared. Her eyes were full on draconic yellow now; even her nose seemed a little rounder. Keeping her soulless eyes focused on Yin Ri alone, she hissed "Nirasa, _leave _us."

Nirasa took no time in carrying out her lady's order and scurried past Yin Ri like the frightened mouse that she was, sneaking a quick glance of sympathy toward Yin Ri, who glared back with white eyes, not wanting it from the sniveling likes of her.

Yin Ri's eyes flashed back to Cassandra and, once Nirasa had left them alone, she spoke: "_Now_, my love," she said more calmly, though the adrenaline coursing through her veins screamed, "what _ever_ is the _matter_?"

Cassandra's eyes were filled with a rage that could rival her father's. "You've been sleeping with him, haven't you?" she accused. "You come around and act like you care about me, _tell_ me I'm _loved_, and then you go around _behind_ my back and-" Cassandra stopped her own words, far too angry to say any more.

"_No_," Yin Ri told her.

"_Then what is it then_?" Cassandra shouted.

Yin Ri stayed silent, unable to tell the girl the truth; that her father was deteriorating. The silence that hung in the air was thick with loathing between them.

"I can't _believe_ you!" cried Cassandra. "Tell me, after you come and give me my meals, after you've drawn my bath and wished me good night, do you go to him? Do you tell him all I confide in you, _everything_ I've said to you in confidence? _Do_ you?" Cassandra stood and stomped around the bed to get back to the mirror on the wall. She glared at Yin Ri though her reflection as she pretended at playing with her own hair. "Does he laugh at how pathetic I am? Do_ you_?"

"Cassandra, _no_!"

"You're the only parent I've got, Yin Ri. The _only_ person I have ever trusted," Cassandra growled, her chin quivering. "and you're laughing at me behind my _back_!"

"That is _nonsense_, Cassandra." clipped Yin Ri, she would deal with none of her nonsense today, no matter _wha_t Chase had placed into the poor girl's head. "_Why_ would_ I_ be _laughing_ at you?"

"Because I'm _pathetic_, right?" she shouted. "It's all my father has ever called me!"

"Not anymore," reminded Yin Ri sternly. "You are his heir now, remember? He would not _allow_ you to be dishonored."

"Dishonored?" asked Cassandra hollowly. She no longer looked at Yin Ri's reflection, but lowered her eyes to her own mirrored hands as they worried at the dress's fabric.

Yin Ri, judging it to be safe, walked from across the room and lightly touched the bare skin of Cassandra's arm. "Chase would not allow anything that bares his name to have the shame of being labeled _pathetic_," she explained. "Now, look at you; a beautiful warrior princess. When you become queen, you shall be _twice_ the ruler as your father ever could be."

Cassandra looked on the verge of panic. "And will you be there to make sure of it?" she asked, eyes bulging wide.

"Of course," nodded Yin Ri. "If you wish me to."

"But I don't want you to be."

"And," asked Yin Ri, smiling a bit despite the girl's words. They were an empty threat to her. "why is that?"

"Because it's your fault! It's your fault they died!" screamed Cassandra, turning on Yin Ri and smacking her hand away. "If you had stepped in to stop them when you were supposed to, _none_ of this would have happened! They'd both still be alive!"

"But _you_ would not be!" Yin Ri answered back sternly, ever the voice of reason. She backed away a bit to give herself room to maneuver if Cassandra tried to lunge at her again.

_Of course_, Yin Ri sighed to herself inwardly. Well, it was not as if Cassandra had been allowed to mourn either Damien or Ariela. Who else better to take it out on than the one person who would be her ever-constant?

"Why should my life have mattered more than hers?" asked Cassandra, her hair whipping about as she rounded on her nanny-cat with a vengeance.

Yin Ri narrowly evaded a wayward hairbrush that smacked against the all with a loud crack. "And what about Damien?" continued Cassandra. "We _both_ know my father held him in higher regard than me! What makes _me _so important?"

Yin Ri's shoulders sagged. She was far too tired for this. "You were _always_ more important, Cassandra."

"Why would you say that?"

"Because you _are_." said Yin Ri exasperatingly. "And I am sorry; I am so, _so_ sorry."

"Shut up." Cassandra snapped. "Just _shut up_!"

"He died fer you, you know." Yin Ri bit, her brogue thickening with her temper. "_Not_ just fer Nole'a. Damien died because he _knew_ tha' if he didn,' _you_ would. He _knew_ what Chase had planned fer yea; and, more importantly, so do _you_."

"Stop it!" Like a child who did not want to hear any more, she blocked her ears and backed away from Yin Ri, glaring unhappily. "I told you to stop! I don't want to hear it!"

"Damien knew that yer father _needed_ Nole'a alive," Yin Ri would not let her get away. She advanced upon the princess, being sure Cassandra would hear her words. "but he also needed _Damien_ alive. He wanted yer brother as his heir an' 'e found Nole'a tae be useful."

She tried to circle Cassandra, but Cassandra kept backing away. Sadly, she added "More useful than you."

"I said shut up!" Cassandra looked positively miserable; her face was crumpling in the fashion of a toddler's tantrum. It broke the old cat's heart, but she pressed her words on valiantly. Cassandra _needed_ to hear the truth.

"You need tae hear it!" she demanded angrily, pushing her soft feelings down in favor of a hardened heart. "Damien knew that if he still lived, Chase would kill you. He needed to kill one of the children of prophecy to ensure that he himself would not die. So, Damien found his only option, to save you, was to die so Chase would have no choice but to name you his heir in Damien's stead."

"That's not true!" Cassandra cried, shaking her head with a snarl. "If he knew my father would kill Noleta anyway after he died, then why do it? Why_ sacrifice_ himself to _save_ her?"

"Because it was his _only_ chance" Yin Ri nearly fell to her knees to beg for the girl to believe the truth, no matter how hard it was. She held back tears of resentment and hatred for Chase and for herself at what her dear princess had been through at both their hands. "tae save you _both_, even if it prolonged Nole'a's life only a short while longer. He _knew_ Chase would wait until Hannibal Bean was destroyed to enact his final part of the prophecy plan. Damien _knew_ that he was running out of time and he had to choose one of you tae save in the long run, so he chose you. He had always chosen you, no matter _what_ he had felt for that girl; it was _always_ you. _Always_."

Cassandra shook her head, tears freely flowing now. "Get out," she choked, chin quivering and eyes flashing gold, "Just get out."

"Cassandra, I _beg_ of y-"

"_LEAVE_!"

Cassandra tossed the mirror from the wall, shattering it on the ground. Both cat and princess stared at the broken shards on the ground. small bit of glass had been thrown onto Cassandra's dress, but the heavy top fabric had saved her from a cut. Only a few scratches appeared on Cassandra's bare arms. Blood welled up in a gash on Cassandra's shoulder.

"Cassandra, you're hurt."

"I command you to leave." Cassandra spoke bravely, ignoring Yin Ri's concern. "I don't want to see you again. Any business my father has with me shall now be handled by my handmaiden; is that understood?"

"Your highness, _really_," scoffed Yin Ri.

"_Is_. _That_. _Clear_?"

Yin Ri swallowed her misery. Never in her life had she ever wanted to tenderly hold and strangle someone all a once before. She nodded her head solemnly, now a servant and a mother no longer.

"Be sure Nirasa binds that properly, princess," she told the girl, her voice even and professional despite the whirlwind of emotions raging within her. She had learned that trick, obviously, from centuries of working alongside Chase. "You do not want that to get infected."

She said no more and made her way outside where Nirasa was already waiting. She locked eyes with the younger servant, bitter and with a warning laced through her white eyes. She drew the girl close by the collar of her dress. Nirasa's feet lightly pulled away from the floor as Yi Ri held her upright. "If _anythin_' happens tae my girl, _anythin_' at all," she vowed hotly, "I _will_ kill you."

"Y-y-yes, alpha!" stammered Nirasa. "I promise to n-not let you down!"

"_Good_," snipped Yin Ri. She tossed the girl away from her. "Now go clean op tha' mess."

She watched Nirasa disappear into the doorway and quickly slam the door behind her. If Yin Ri had fangs, she would bare them. She wanted more than anything right now to tear something apart; preferably that cowardly lioness.

* * *

**AN: I swear to God, I was going to add in Jack's part (honestly, It's all written out and everything) but that wolud have made the chapter unnecessarily long. So, Jack will be heading the next chapter. I'm so sorry for making you all wait this long for his backstory, really. I hadn't planned that, but I've had to swtich some notes around to make the peices fit a little more nicely.**


	5. Sankofa

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Sankofa  
(n.)(phr.)  
_"we must look back at the past so that we may understand how we become what we are and move toward a better future"_

_Five__

Jack, alone in his room, stared at the ceiling; pink and blue dust motes lit up and danced around his vision, swimming against the ink of the shadows. He had been placed in meager quarters. A simple room with nothing but a candle, a desk, and a bed.

Beyond that, another room opened into a bath that was just as barren looking as the sleeping room, save for the bronze basin surrounded by white tiles that served as a tub, though it looked more like an empty robin's nest. However, Jack could not see it in the dark. The memory of looking at it before blowing out his candle served his imagination instead.

He imagined Chase lounging in it, eyes closed and an arrogant grin plastered upon his face, perhaps dosing off, perhaps already asleep. He would not suspect Jack coming up behind him to slash his throat. Grimly, Jack clenched his jaw at the thought of holding Chase's head below the water, the weakened man flailing and thrashing about helplessly as his blood bubbled up and mingled with the cold water, making it warmer against Jack's skin as Chase drowned.

Jack watched in his mind's eye as Chase stilled. His imaginary hands let go of the man's long hair, watching it rise like seaweed in the surf his splashing had caused. He pulled his arm from the water, covered with blood, his heart hammering with exhilaration while he watched the body float upon gentle waves that began to settle.

Jack rolled over to his side, disgusted with himself for the childish thought at how simple the death would be. After all, revenge was never easy, or neat. Killing Chase would not be the hard part, not emotionally; it would be the aftermath that would destroy Jack, and he knew it. Already, though it was a vision, Jack felt hollow. He felt like a monster, no better than the man he had sworn to kill.

Of course, he could not just go behind Chase and slash his throat like he had wanted, no. Chase would snap his neck before he even got close enough. He would have to be more subtle about it. Especially with that woman around.

Yin Ri.

He would plan to kill her too, if necessary. She knew that he was not here just to hide from the outside world, as he had lead Chase and Wuya to believe. She was jaded, he could tell that, but whether she was loyal to Chase was a totally different story. It did not matter. It was most likely she would die with her master, voluntarily or not. He could not allow her to ruin his plans.

"_You're better than that_," Kimiko's voice shouted in his brain as he imagined wrapping his hands around the masked woman's throat. He glowered at the dark ceiling. "_Raimundo thought so_."

"I'm not," his hoarse whisper told the open air, swearing he'd kill that hypocrite too if she got in his way. "I'm really not."

He closed his eyes, weariness grabbing a firm hold on him, yet he could not sleep. Jack's thoughts continued to race; most about killing the Dragon King, the how and the when, but other thoughts far and few between were that of why.

Jack clenched his pillow tight, thinking about his sister's laughing eyes, about his grandmother's kind smile, trying desperately not to cry. He missed them terribly.

His thoughts wandered, back to killing Chase, and the hollowness in his chest came again. It was then that he remembered. He remembered being outside, alone, starving. He remembered the flies and the ticks that bit him by day and the very real monsters that stalked his nightmares by night. He remembered it, and it made him strong. He had survived.

All alone, he was. He had no help from anyone but himself. Not even once. While the world had pointed and laughed at his back, calling him a coward, it was Jack now who pointed and laughed at them while they shrunk to nothing under Chase's iron fist. He had grown strong, being forced to survive, while the lot of them became weak and spineless. Jack Spicer was now the bravest man in the world. Ironic, wasn't it?

It was, admittedly, his cowardice that had saved him. Jack scurried away and went into hiding like the rat he used to be. He felt no shame in that. Of course, he had tried at first to bunk in with some of the other lesser villains as they all went ducking for cover, but that did not last long. He was booted out before he could even blink. Collateral damage, they had told him; his weakness was holding them back from survival.

He almost believed them, almost, and felt sorry for himself. He even considered suicide, practically on a daily basis, for a couple of months. Perhaps about two years. At least, he was, until he heard the news of the loss of his old comrades.

Chase had flushed them out and slaughtered over half of the group. Vlad was gone. So was Ashley. LeMime, Gigi, Tubbimura, all dead. Wuya was already on Chase's side as his lackey and helped him with the killings. The rest had been scattered to the wind.

Cyclops retreated to the mountains from whence he came, Panda Bubba fled China all together, Mala Mala Jong had been torn apart, the wu that held him together now in the possession of Chase and Wuya. Even the Ying Ying bird, once so loyal to the late Hannibal Roy Bean, had flown away to places unknown to escape Chase's wrath.

Jack felt glad for being left to the elements, now. If he had stayed, he would most likely have died with them. And, of course, they had essentially been right about him. He_ had_ held them back. But it was because of that fact which brought him to that point in time to survive. So, he hid again; this time, taking refuge in Lóng zhī chéng while it was still in its infant stages.

He saw as every human who resided there bent their knee to the new king. He watched as world leaders, scientists, doctors, even priests, were slaughtered by the dozens to keep the rest of the cowering sheep in line. Husbands had been taken from wives, mothers from their children, friends from friends, and lovers from lovers, all set into fractions to build and utilize the city in any way Chase and his warriors saw fit. He nearly turned himself in, hoping to die and just be done with it. But, a stroke of chance changed Jack's mind.

He had been slinking through the streets of one of the makeshift bazaars, where the currency was now treasured items and mementos from the years before the Dragon's Reign instead of strips of paper and coin. Jack stole from the discards of the food stands there, where the pickings were slim, even for sales, to keep himself fed.

Jack had gone hungry, already skin and bone, and his last and final chance before becoming too weak to move was to successfully acquire a meal for himself. However, while sneaking about in the rummage, fighting off a street rat or two for a piece of half eaten stale bread, Jack had found himself quite literally between a rock and a hard place. Well, more accurately, a partially made stone statue and an already half crumbled brick wall.

It had fallen nearly on top of him, the headless stone likeness of Chase Young becoming his shade from the unbearable sun and nearly pinning him against the wall in the process. Despite nearly being flattened to death by the statue, an idea stirred up in Jack's mind while the rock was lifted away and re-erected by the slaves.

He remembered the weapons he had once created; how their humble beginnings were simple home made bombs from fertilizer and the cleaning equipment the maid would leave at the house over her weekends off. Jack had mainly started playing with bombs out of curiosity, if the instructions from the internet were the real thing. For the most part, whatever he had made at first were duds. It was not until he himself modified the recipe did he create his first weapon- a simple little bomb with the ability to blow up a small car.

He had tried it out with a car he purchased for a test run at the junkyard he went to a little later in his life to acquire the first pieces of scrap he made his earliest Jackbots with. That bomb recipe, modified again and again after the first test, became his go-to formula for the cannons on those same early Jackbot models. His imagination exploded from there and after years and years of hits and misses, he had become a weapons expert and an all around mechanic genius. And, it was from that memory that Jack decided to go back to his roots.

Jack understood what he needed to do from then on. He would build himself up again from scratch, attacking Chase with whatever he had in a way he knew would hurt the Dragon King most: his pride. Defacing the statues with the bombs was step one, and it was not a very easy step. He was only able to scrap up enough supplies for about three or four very tiny explosions. Jack had hoped to scrap up enough for one large one to place at the edge of the citadel, but he knew that he would just have to make do with defacing statues.

When Jack meant defacing, he truly meant it. He hid the bombs behind the head or below the chins of each statue he targeted to literally blow the faces off. He was successful and _very_ lucky. Chase, he knew now, had assumed Jack had died long ago and did not even think to consider the boy genius. Instead, Chase committed a second genocide, this time of those he suspected to be making the bombs; whomever his cats pointed out to him because of either their defiance or if they simply did not like a certain human or two. Women and men, young and old, were killed alike.

Jack slipped back into the shadows after this and decided to enact part two of his plan. He found himself a crossbow, old, rusted and abandoned, in one of the destroyed buildings outside of Lóng zhī chéng, possibly belonging to a rich man with a taste for big game hunting. Needless to say, the old owner of it had become the hunted and died alongside many others in long ago Hong Kong. But, regardless, Jack cleaned it up and added a few things of his own to it to enhance his accuracy. Jack was good at building weapons, not using them.

He then laid in wait for the scouts that he noticed frequently scanning the area on black wings. He killed about twenty birds, one by one. He hardly noticed himself slipping from hunger again until he could no longer move. But, he felt at peace with it now. He knew he could never truly take Chase on alone, not in this way. At least he had disgruntled the old reptile, becoming a nuisance for him one last time. Jack knew that the next time he closed his eyes it would be the end.

But, when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in the company of Master Monk Guan. He had not died like he had thought, but had been rescued by the old master and the remaining members of the Xiaolin monks. He hated them for it. After all, when he left the never bothered looking for him and gave up on finding him despite what their precious Master Fung and Shoku warrior had thought about him. Yet, in a way, he was also very thankful to them. They replenished his strength and gave him a new chance; a fresh start and a second opportunity to get under Chase's skin. This time, with the help of Kimiko and the others, he _would_ kill Chase Young.

* * *

Chase smiled as Yin Ri walked in from the kitchens. In her hands was a sliver tray which the top of it held a turkey, golden brown and stuffed with delicacies. He could smell it from across the room and practically tasted it in his mouth already.

But, he had other matters to concern himself with besides eating, one of them being Yin Ri herself. "How is your shoulder feeling?" he asked with mock concern once she had laid the meal before him.

"Much better, your grace," she clipped. It wasn't. He could tell. Even if Chase himself could not feel pain, he knew by the redness of it that her wound was infected and throbbing. He was slightly amused with the thought of himself being the cause of her pain in more ways than one.

"I am glad," he told her with an easy smile, revealing the hidden meaning behind his words. "Although, you should have one of the others clean it for you. The angle seems a bit awkward even for _your_ healing skills."

"And, _my king_," Yin Ri bit, gaining another grin from him, "what matter of concern is it to you whether I keep my own wounds clean?"

"Well," said Chase with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrows, "We certainly don't want your arm to rot and fall off. I don't need a one-armed general."

Yin Ri swallowed back what she had truly wanted to tell him. In the place of those words, she said "That is certainly true."

Her mask was hidden by her hair as she bent over to pour his tea. But, unlike her face, her objectives could not be as easily hidden. It did her no good to hide what she had wanted to tell him. She knew by now that Chase could feel her intentions, yet she insisted to play at being sneaky. Foolish, misguided girl. Still, her arrogance and stubbornness amused him.

She placed some choice slices of the turkey meat onto his plate for him, her arms moving cautiously and slowly. It was quite entertaining to watch his usually so sardonic Yin Ri walk upon eggshells. "Afraid I'll bite?" he mocked.

She flinched, whipping her arms back to her in a flash. He almost laughed. She looked like a little girl to him. "Don't worry," Chase told her, casting a look up and down her not-so-girlish figure, "I'll only bite you again if you want me to."

She froze and he could practically taste the hateful words on her tongue, but Yin Ri refused to speak. Instead, she stared at him before again uncoiling herself and silently returning to tending to his meal. She placed more food onto his plate, a generous portion that Chase took note of happily. He felt famished.

"Well, I do hope you've learned your lesson from it, anyhow," he told her, stabbing a bit of turkey with his fork. "I'd rather not re-teach it to you unless absolutely necessary."

She looked at him, standing a bit farther away from him now and eyeing him carefully. "Would you not?" she asked just as slowly as she had moved before.

"Trust me, precious," he insisted, bringing the fork to his lips, "It was no more fun for me as it was for you… You_ taste_ like a bitter old shrew."

He paused before popping it into his mouth. Something was off. It did not smell right, not up close. It was the smell of grass. She was poisoning him.

Calmly, Chase placed the fork and meat back down onto his plate and waited.

"Ser?" Yin Ri asked. He could hear the fear in her voice. She knew that she had been caught.

"This is seriously a disappointment," he told her with a sigh, still looking at his plate.

"Your Grace," she started. Chase almost wanted to snigger. Here we go, "I have an explanation for this, really, I-"

"Eat it."

She swallowed her voice and it came back with a squeak. "What?"

He looked at her now. Chase smelled her fear and, though he would usually be elated from it, it enraged him. "You. _Heard_. Me," he growled.

Yin Ri swallowed, defiant despite the white of her eyes telling him that she would rather run. "I think not, Ser."

Chase grabbed her and slammed her face into the table. She thrashed as he pinned her down by her hair. "What did you try to feed me?" he demanded calmly, ignoring Yin Ri struggling.

"It was just to help you sleep!" she swore squirming, "Nothing more, my king, I swear it!"

"_What _was it?" he asked again, no longer amused by this cute little act she was throwing around.

"_Achnatherum robustum!" _she yelled, trying desperately to wriggle free from him. Chase slowly released the pressure his hand held on her head as she stilled. She was breathing hard past the wood of the mask as she lay breathless and at his mercy. More calmly, she said "I was giving you_ Achnatherum robustum_. To help the dragon sleep. I thought it could help us to last the potion a bit longer."

He let go, letting his hand linger in the tangled strands of her hair that became knotted around his fingers in the struggle. "The potion," he mused quietly, watching her with wide eyes.

"There is none _left_!" she told him harshly. "Only_ one_ can and we _must_ be thrifty with it!"

He became angry again and was upon her with a vengeance, digging her face into the table again. "_It's GONE_?" he roared.

"Yes!" she cried, now reaching both hands behind her head to fend him off. "Dojo was the last! There are _no more_ dragons! Your reign has killed them all!"

Enraged by the truth, Chase snatched Yin Ri up by the hair and threw her away. She landed like a broken doll and dared not move. She knew better.

Chase, calmer now, took slow steps toward his victim, circling her to see her face. He bent down and held Yin Ri up to stand. "Now, doesn't _this_ feel familiar," he said with a grin as her head lolled back helplessly, "_My_, Yin Ri, if only Noleta could _see_ you _now_."

Blood dripped down her neck, most likely fro her nose being smashed against the mask. "You're _bleeding_," he mocked, "Shall we take off your mask and inspect the damage?"

Yin Ri moaned, barely conscious, as Chase took the mask from her face carefully. He broke out into a smile when he noticed that her nose was indeed broken.

"And, look!" he added with a laugh, "The two of you now even share a nose!"

"Please," she whimpered, but soon lost the energy to say anything else.

"_Please_?" he mocked. "Oh, you want me to _heal_ you. I don't see why I should."

"No," she gurgled, her closed eyes squinting painfully.

Chase sighed, spreading his hand over her nose and mouth.

"Do you _want_ a deformed face?" he asked. _Honestly_, she was being ridiculous.

Gaining new energy, Yin Ri thrashed about, her scream of "No!" muffled by his hand.

"_Stop struggling_," grunted Chase. "It will be over with quickly; you know that."

She collapsed as his magic rushed through her, a silent scream forming on her mouth beneath his palm, eyes glowing white with pain and shock. She was on her knees, practically, with only Chase's arm to hold her upright. He let her go and Yin Ri dropped to the floor, shaking, but with enough energy to sit upright on her own again.

"You did not deserve that, you know," Chase told her as he returned to his seat. He heard the wooden scrape of the mask on the tiles as Yin Ri slowly dragged it up off of the floor. "But, let's just think of it as a token of my gratitude for your clever idea to keep my dragon form at bay a little while longer, shall we?"

There was silence from her for a short while. She was either still in shock from the ordeal or he had damaged her brain in some way. Chase rolled his eyes. "Yin Ri," he snapped.

He turned his head to peek at her from behind the tall chair and, with mask still in her hands, she looked at him like a child caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. He felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. She was afraid of him. Terrified, really. He loved it.

"Clean up this mess," he said, "and bring me a _proper_ meal. Hold the poison."


	6. Orenda

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Orenda  
(n.)  
_A mystical force in all people that empowers them to affect the world, or to effect change in their own lives_

_Six__

The sunlight lit up the grass with a miraculous shine. The blades shimmered dreamily as the breeze caused them to sway lazily. A ladybug caught Cassandra's eye and she bent low to study it while it clambered up the long, fan-like blade, causing the tip to droop when it made its course. Cassandra smiled at it while it continued to make its path back down the other side of the blade. Such a stupid, simple little thing.

"Cassandra!"

Cassandra whipped her head up and her grin widened when she caught a glimpse of red hair shining in the sunlight. Among the tall grass stood her dear friend, calling to her with a wily grin.  
"I'll race you to the lake!" she shouted before darting off, her hair whipping behind her like a fox's tail.

Cassandra laughed wildly and chased after Ariela, shooting through the grass with girlish screams, not caring that her feet were sinking into the marshy mud with each step.

The colors of green and gold around them were bright and surreal. Summer was upon them and Cassandra howled out wildly with the sovereignty of it. She felt like a forest animal, at home in nature and drinking up the pleasures of being free with each breath she took.

"Ariela, wait up!" she called with a breathless laugh. Her friend had run too far ahead of her and now all Cassandra could see of Ariela was the short, bounding whip of flame that adorned her head.

Sudden fear overtook Cassandra when she noticed Ariela disappear behind the shelter of trees that lined their little oasis.

"Ariela, stop!" she called again, willing her legs to pick up speed, and it was not long before she broke the forest barrier herself.

She stopped her feet short, pounding them into the ground upon landing, and the soles of them strung. But, nothing hurt her worse than losing sight of her friend. Desperately, and like a child, she wailed.

"Ariela, _please_," she called, feeling herself revert to a lost little girl. "Ariela, where are you?"

"You left me."

Cassandra whipped herself around. There, stood a little girl at about the age of seven. Her red hair, though longer, and brown eyes, through larger, were unmistakable. Cassandra stopped breathing and gave a step back, her eyes wide with fear and realization. The little girl took a step forward.

"You watched me die," said the little girl. "You said you loved me, but you let them hurt me."

"No," croaked Cassandra, shaking her head. She attempted to back away again, but the girl walked forward with her. "I didn't _want_ to!"

"You left me," the little girl insisted again. "You left me, Cassandra, you left me!"

"It wasn't my fault!" screamed Cassandra, "I had no choice!"

"Liar!" cried the little girl, "Liar, liar! You let me die!"

She reached out her tiny arms and pushed Cassandra away. She fell back and hit water. She was immediately submerged and struggled to swim to the surface for air, but her clothes were too heavy. The denim of her jeans was dragging her down.

Above her, though distorted from the splashing water, the little girl was watching her. Cassandra tried to cry out, to lift her hand so the girl could take it, but she was too weak and too far away for her fingers to touch the air.

The little girl looked like she was trying to tell Cassandra something, but the water blocked her ears. The girl reached out her hand and Cassandra tried desperately to grab it, but instead of taking Cassandra's hand, the girl took something from Cassandra's face: a green mask.

Cassandra stilled from the shock of seeing it, and giving up, she sank to the bottom.

The water rushed past her and carried her back up. Her soul was violently thrown back into her body and Cassandra awoke, feeling dampness on her skin. Her lungs hurt as if she had truly been drowning and Cassandra took in a heavy breath to soothe them. She rolled over to look where Nirasa lay.

The girl's back was to her, her hair spilling over her neck and shoulder to reveal her bare, pale back. She shivered against the cold space Cassandra's moving had left and it reminded the princess of sleepovers long forgotten, though less mature than this. Cassandra lightly touched Nirasa's hair, a bit disappointed that it was darker than that of the girl's she was meant to replace.

Chase had no idea about how his daughter spent her nights, obviously. She was not that reckless or stupid, no matter how desperate she was for the king's attentions. He only knew that Nirasa was her handmaiden; such a liberal notion of his daughter pairing with the same sex was unfathomable to him. He would never take the time to notice, anyway. But, after all, if he could spend his nights with his '_most loyal'_ servant, then why couldn't she?

Nirasa turned over with a sigh, her freckles painting constellations on her face and shoulders against her white skin. She opened her eyes and pulled the sheets around her middle more tightly to fight off the draft of the large room. "Did you have a nightmare, princess?" she murmured sleepily.

Cassandra played with Nirasa's bangs, gently brushing them behind her ear. "No," she lied with a drowsy smile. "Why are _you_ awake?"

"Because your distress awoke me," answered Nirasa with the kind gentleness that comes with the blanket of half-sleeping. Cassandra gave a grin and pulled Nirasa closer to her, holding the girl's face in her hands.

"The only thing to _distress_ me," she told her servant lazily, "is if my father learns of your _extra duties_."

She planted a loving kiss onto the middle of Nirasa's forehead and murmured "So do not tell anyone because I do not want to have to kill you _just_ yet."

She felt Nirasa stiffen and Cassandra laughed softly, wrapping her arms around the other girl's shoulders to warm her cold skin.

"Get some sleep, my little cat," she whispered, resting her chin atop Nirasa's head with a tired sigh, "Dawn is approaching and you still have work to do."

* * *

Indeed, dawn did approach, and it came upon them faster than Cassandra had expected. She had hoped for Chase to summon her, to at least sit in to watch his sunrise training, but there was no word from him. Bitterly, she assumed that a certain cat had caused him to sleep in late. Or, she thought with even more vehemence, that he had forgotten her completely.

And here, in this sour mood, she sat at the fountain, pretending to study the cuticles of her nails. In truth, she was nursing her bruised feelings and entertaining the slightly mood-lifting memory of her last night's spat with Yin Ri. Remembering how she held her ground against the woman who normally instilled a goddess-like fear in Cassandra's eyes sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine, though it did little else for her temper but raise the bloodlust of victory.

Speaking of lust, Cassandra smiled a bit while remembering her second victory of the night. Though, it took Nirasa little convincing. Hardly at all, really. The simple fact was that Cassandra held all of the power and Nirasa had no choice but obey the order her lady gave in exchange for her protection.

Of course, Nirasa jumped at the chance of pleasing Cassandra, what with Yin Ri threatening her life and scaring the poor girl to pieces. It was no wonder she was so willing to do _anything_ for asylum against the ferocious, old tigress…not that Cassandra's "horror stories" had helped with calming her nerves. Cassandra wanted to cackle at the reminder. She had Yin Ri to thank for something after all, whether the old bitch knew it or not. No wonder her father loved his own might and cunning so; it was exhilarating.

"What's _that_ smile about?"

Cassandra's smile disappeared in place of a frown when she looked to see Jack Spicer aiming a stupid grin her way. His smile somewhat resembled that of an old friend's. Her new and sudden thoughts of Ariela erased her mood and brought upon far less pleasing memories of the night before.

"Oh, what do _you_ want?" she asked with a bored sigh, again inspecting her nails.

"Just to chat," he said, that smile of his never once dropping from his face. "You, know catch up. I haven't seen you in, what, _five_ years?"

"I have only ever talked to you about twice," she answered him mockingly, "And _five years_ apart won't change anything."

With a wave of her other hand, she added "Shoo, shoo, go away."

"Then you owe me _two _audiences, your highness," answered Jack with a sweeping bow. Out of the corner of her eye, it made him look like a gangly ostrich. She smirked a little at his cleverness.

"Fine," she clipped, deciding to reward him with eye contact and a smile. "But, this is your first one. Choose your words carefully, since your next conversation with me will most likely be the last words we will ever exchange."

"Unless you_ like _me," he piped, gaining an eye roll from her.

"I highly doubt it," she said.

* * *

Jack smiled broadly. Gotchya.

"Okay," he said, "First question: Where's the best place to hang out in around here when you're bored?"

"You should _know_," answered the princess with a haughty sneer, "You've only _lived_ here about _twice_ already. Strike one."

Jack wanted to strangle her. She was a mini Chase with breasts. A long time ago the boy genius had wished for that but, now with someone of that caliber standing before him, he thoroughly regretted it.

He took a breath to keep himself in check and tried again. If he could not get her to tell him straight up about a secret place or two he may have not discovered on his past visits to the citadel, he would at least try to coax her to trust him enough to take him there."So, what do _you_ do for fun around here?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Maim people," she mused. "Strike two."

"…I feel like we're not _connecting_," Jack joked, hoping she'd at least open up to a bit of sarcasm, but no dice.

"Strike three," she bit, looking back to her nails with a disgusted grimace, "_bye_."

_Great_, his first chance was blown. Jack would have to come up with something _good_ next time in order to hold her interest long enough to squeeze out any information she had. Sadly, he hadn't thought up the best banter to work with this round. Next time, though, _next time_ for sure, he would have the princess eating out of the palm of his hand! He just needed to find the right words for her to open up to him and he would be as good as gold….As _bad _as gold. Whatever, he would be _gold_ any other way he could slice it.

"You're still _standing_ there~" sang Cassandra with a threatening tone. Jack saw her nails sharpen to claw-like points and he backed off, hands raised defensively.

"Okay, _okay_," he told her, "_Sheesh_! I was just leaving!"

He turned to leave, but found himself face to mask with the one person he had hoped to avoid today.

"_What do you want_?" Jack heard Cassandra growl menacingly behind him.

"Jack Spicer," Yin Ri answered with amusement, a silver stare aimed Jack's way.

It creeped him out. He swallowed nervously as Cassandra sighed loudly.

"Take him," she clipped. "He's _all_ yours."

"All your _father's_, actually," answered the mask woman, her eyes still trained on Jack.

Her nod to him was solemn and formal, one you would expect from someone you hardly know giving their condolences to you at a distant uncle's funeral. Jack assumed that the funeral this time would be his, judging by the wise way she looked at him and the cold feeling that stare of hers gave.

"_Excuse_ me?" Cassandra's voice shook and Jack decided that it was best just to _not_ turn around. "I wait _all morning_ for him to ask for me and, instead, he calls for this _worm_?!"

Yin Ri was not fazed and, judging by her tone of voice, she was also not amused: "That is _exactly_ correct."

Much like how he had observed with Guan and Kimiko back at the base, these two were having a power struggle of their own, and a bad one at that. They seemed about ready to tear each other apart. Jack could feel the static of mutual aggression between them. Well, time to break the tension.

"Chase wants to see me?" asked Jack with enthusiastic hope, doing his best to show the stars in his eyes.

He wondered if Yin Ri had noticed. She did not seem to. In truth, she had ignored him, her diamond-sharp eyes still focused on Cassandra with what looked like harsh judgment. She spun on a heel and began to walk away without him, indicating that he follow with a flick of her fingers.

* * *

"_So_, Spicer," said Chase as the boy genius slowly closed the study door behind himself, "I suppose I have to _thank_ you for returning the Mending Needle to me."

Jack froze on the spot when he laid eyes on the Dragon King. He was lounging, resting his back and elbows on the table behind him. He regarded Jack with an easy grin and Jack could feel heat creep up his neck at the way the light bounced almost orange against the amber of Chase's eyes.

Chase looked like a proud lion or a panther; Jack could imagine a tail swinging lazily from this king of the jungle. He felt rather helpless, but then again, that was the most exciting thing. Chase truly had all of the power. It drew Jack to him from day one and he felt his heart drawing near again, awakening to seeing the man so up close after years of being so far, far away.

No, no," stammered Jack with a nervous laugh, partly from fear and partly from something else, "It's alright. Letting me live here is thanks enough. I-I'll just be… going…"

Chase chuckled a bit, and pushed himself off of the table effortlessly. "What's the_ hurry_?" he asked, walking towards Jack, "I am nothing, if not _generous_."

The Dragon King rested his temple on his fist while he leaned against the wall to tower above Jack, at home with the boy's mild discomfort. Jack nearly melted at Chase's smile and forced his own back to the wall to ease his shaking legs.

"W-what are you going to do to me?" asked Jack, trying desperately not to panic or say anything too horrendously stupid with his ex-idol so close to him.

"_Do_?" asked Chase with a soft laugh. "Why, Spicer, I'm not going to do _anything_ to you."

With a wave of his other hand, Chase summoned a lion from the dark shadows beyond the candlelight of the study. In its mouth hung a burlap sack that bulged with the bulk of the hard material inside of it. "I _merely_ wish to show you my appreciation," Chase went on, appearing amused with Jack's cowering. At least _that _hadn't changed. "Of course, with this little gift, I have high hopes that you will return the favor to me."

The lion trotted forward and, though Jack hesitated at first, it gave him the sack gently. Jack tugged at the chord and opened it to reveal bits of scrap metal and wiring. There were also some tools that he could see; a wrench, and possibly a small torch, but the pickings were slim. His heart stopped. What the hell was going on? Why was Chase giving him _weapons_ material?

Chase appeared to read his thoughts, or perhaps the look of shock on his face, and said with an amused grin "I know these are not the _choicest_ materials, but then again, my warriors are more adept at finding suitable _game_ than they are at finding suitable mechanics. However, I _do_ know you will have no trouble doing what I ask despite the slim picking."

"…Thank you," said Jack, caressing the old wrench with his thumb. The old lizard had no idea that he had just supplied Jack with the means to his demise.

"Don't thank me _just yet_, Spicer," said Chase, bending beside him to look the boy genius in the eye. "I want you to build something for me; a _tracker_ to find the monks. Yin Ri tells me we can use the Shen Gong Wu in our possession to help locate the rest, which we assume the monks took with them from the Xiaolin Temple in their escape."

"It's a possibility," Jack told him, hoping that his eyes did not give away his intent to do the opposite of what Chase was asking, "But that theory is far too broad. The wu could easily have just been scattered. The monks might not even have any at all….If they are even still _alive._"

"Oh, they _are_ alive, Spicer," said Chase. "I can feel it."

* * *

Yin Ri took the time that Chase was distracted with Jack Spicer to scout out the area where she had last seen Guan. It was a ruined outcrop, covered with scattered rock and debris. The sun, though high in the sky, only gave hints of life as a pulsating red beneath the blanket of black, ashen clouds. She stood over this plateau, looking down at the wasteland of metal and concrete below her.

Lóng zhī chéng was a miraculous and glowing, golden oasis among the desert of destruction surrounding it. Indeed, the light of it throbbed against the subtle glow of the darkened day. It was a jewel in the sand to her eyes, though Yin Ri knew that it was in actuality a slave state and a death trap to those unlucky enough to reside in it.

She made her way down the dusty slope with ease, fine sand kicking up at her landing and swirling around her. She mentally cursed at the ruckus of it. Someone close by would have most assuredly seen it and have known of her whereabouts. Before the dust could settle, Yin Ri snuck away to the closest hiding place, a crevice within the wall only just large enough for a person or two to fit comfortably in. Sadly, that was her mistake.

She was grabbed from behind and pinned against the side of the wall, mask first into the rock. The side of her face throbbed wrathfully as her assailant ordered "Do not move, _general_."

Yin Ri rolled her eyes when she recognized the voice. Great,_ fabulous_. Just the man she was _looking_ for.

She pushed Guan off of her, hooking his ankle with one of her feet to force him off balance. She turned to face him, narrowly dodging his curled fist as it collided with the rock face beside her head. She ducked, as he swung at her again, and rolled onto the ground and into the daylight.

Yin Ri was slower in standing than she would have liked; Guan kicked her in the face and sent her flying onto her back. She waited for him to approach her and sprung, kicking him in the chest with both feet. He staggered as she spun in mid air and landed behind him to give herself the advantage of having a sturdy wall at her back instead of an open-faced cliff.

She landed upon one foot. The other was held aloft, ready to strike at Guan when he charged. He dodged her foot, but Yin Ri hooked her leg and brought it back, pushing him forward and into her. Yin Ri took the advantage to knee his chin with her other leg and kick him away again. This time, she landed in a lowered stance on one knee, prepared to face his wrath.

* * *

Guan charged, anger tearing a yell from the usually composed Master. This entire ordeal felt familiar. Her technique felt familiar, though Chase's general was an unfamiliar sparring partner; a buzzing in his brain warned the old master to be wary.

Keeping his inner warning in mind, Guan struck at the general with a clawed palm, which she blocked to no surprise. He had hoped that block would distract her from his kick, but she evaded that one too. She was quicker than he had anticipated. Still crouched low, she swept one of her legs under his. Luckily, he was faster than _she _had anticipated, and jumped over the kick. The general jumped up and blocked another of his clawed palms with a bent wrist. She swept another leg high to kick him, but he blocked it with his arm and pushed her back, her hair flying like a black flag.

Guan reached out and grabbed it to pull her in, earning a pained yelp from her. She fell forward to the ground and at the old Master's mercy. "Chase should have you cut your hair. It does one no good to fight with such a disadvantage," he told her, slightly pleased with himself for the banter, "Of course, Chase's length is no better, but I assume his skills are far more superior than yours and can _afford_ such a luxury."

The general snapped her head up with a frustrated growl, eyes glowing silver with bloodlust and resentment from behind the faceless mask. Realization hit Guan as her quivering gaze glared at him fiercely and her hands clawed at his, demanding her release.

_Silver_?

Black hair, crane-stylized forms, silver eyes. Even though the fashion of her forms was more personalized and far more mature than he had remembered, the way she moved was unmistakable. He had sparred with that same technique for the majority of his childhood.

"No," Guan murmured with a shake of his head. "It cannot _be_."

The woman remained still. He could hear her harsh breathing through the mask. Her chest heaved with rising anxiety.

"…Tala?"

In a flash, she kicked at him and in his surprise at her sudden move, Guan let go of her hair. She spun lightning quick to turn on him and roared. Her tiger form took hold before Guan had time to react. Now a beast standing before him, she crouched low and snarled. The great cat's eyes were white with fury. She lunged.

Guan was pinned to the ground by the tiger, but it released him just as quick, only using his chest as a springboard for her escape. Pain rippled through his shoulder as her claws raked across his skin and he gritted against the pain. Guan rolled over just in time to watch the tiger disappear over the ledge and down the rest of the slope. She was gone. Tala was gone.

No, _no,_ it was not her. It was a trick. It had to have been. Tala was dead, spending the last fifteen-hundred years at the bottom of a river. It could not have been her.

Chase knew of Guan's guilt from that night all too well, and Guan knew that Chase wanted nothing more than to drag his old friend out of hiding. Guan decided that this had to have been a new, slimy tactic of his; some sort of dark magic to make one of his cats resemble their long lost friend and draw Guan into the open.

It would not work. If he were to see that cat again, Guan swore that he would make her pay for disgracing the memory of Tala Bao.

* * *

**AN: Some unexpected things in this chapter, one being a hint at Chack that I had not entirely planned. But, I rolled with it anyway. I'm not opposed to it, but it's one of the pairings I could care less about.  
The second thing is the more obvious one: Guan and Tala. **  
**These two are going to serve up a big portion of the rest of the plot for the remainder of the story. You'll just have to guess how.**

**But, as always, thank you for reading!**

_**-TNIB**_


	7. Aswium

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Aswium

(n.) _The mingled feeling of disappointment, frustration and regret that comes from an unsatisfactory situation_

_Seven__

She was there again, in that damned forest, and she was lost. All Cassandra could do as she looked about at the sea of green was to cry out.

All she wanted was to see her, to talk to her; to tell her that she was sorry. "Ariela," she called desperately, "I _know _you're here! Just _talk_ to me!"

Spinning around, she screamed "_Where are you_?"

And, when she had tuned the one-eighty, she caught a glimpse of something in the gap of the trees. The little girl was standing there, on top of one of the lower branches, staring down at Cassandra like a queen from on high. How many times had Cassandra given her dear friend that same look?

"You can't find her," the ghastly brat told her with cold, watchful eyes. "You don't _deserve_ to."

"Where is she, you _bitch_?" Cassandra yelled, knowing full well that this demon was what held her back. "Where are you hiding her?"

"I'm not hiding anything," the ghost replied. With a song in her voice, the little girl added "Ar-i-ela's _hiding_ from you."

"I _know _you're keeping her from me!" shouted Cassandra, "Where_ is_ she?"

"You should know," stated the little girl, "We're in _your _mind."

She jumped from the tree and her bare feet landed with a thud onto the twigs and leaves. Her little blue frock cushioned her landing like a parachute. The moment she hit the dirt, the girl said "Now it's _me _you have to chase," and bolted away, her hair flying behind her and her dress kicking up with her feet.

"Oh, _no_ you don't!" Cassandra growled, "Get back here!"

She began running after the ghost girl, being sure to keep her in her sights as much as possible, but like in the last dream with Ariela, all she could spot of the girl to keep track of her was the red hair flying about while she sprinted around trees and bends.

The ghost girl's voice carried back to her through the wind as she ran, singing "Bright, bright lightning strike. Time to run with all your might. Thunder clap and metal crack, don't you ev-er turn your back."

The empty forest buoyed the girl's song and Cassandra tried to ignore it and concentrate on keeping up, but the song still gave her chills.

"Mean, mean, stripes and green. Tooth and claw and baby scream," continued the girl's voice. "Fight, fight, time to fight. Will she choose the dark or light?"

Once she got her hands on that brat, Cassandra swore that she would strangle that creepy song right out of her throat.

* * *

Jack hardly ever dreamed anymore, but when he did, they were usually nightmares or memories. This dream, though, this dream was neither of those things. He was sitting on a stump in the middle of a forest, strange as it sounded, staring up at sun peeking through the green canopy. Jack wondered if he would ever see a real forest in his waking life ever again.

"Hey, bozo, we going or what?"

_No_ way.

A smile spread across his face. Ariela's brown eyes watched him with mischievous intent as she rested on her hip to one side, arms folded against her chest. The sun, reawakened from behind the clouds of green, bounced a golden halo off of her rusty hair. She was just as he had remembered her, crooked grin and all.

"What happened to your nose?" he asked, showing teeth with his smile.

It was bent in two places now, not just the one. He swallowed a guffaw at it.

"You stole my wu," she clipped, jutting her chin out at him.

"You somehow look uglier," he said with a snort.

"Same to you, horse face," she answered, though her sarcasm was half-hearted.

A smile appeared on her face, making her eyes shine prettily as they crinkled. She uncurled her arms and ran to him, nearly knocking him over with her tackle, and wrapped Jack in the largest bear hug he could ever remember receiving.

"…I didn't steal it, you know," he murmured into her hair.

He could feel her lower lip curl up into a smile on his shoulder. "I know," she answered quietly.

They sat like this for a while, just glad to see each other again. It had been far too long a time since they had been able to look at one another as siblings instead of victims. When he looked at her, Jack knew that Ariela was dead, and yet he was happy. No tears came to his eyes; only the joy and relief of being able to talk to her, to touch her, to know that she was no longer suffering.

Ariela pulled away. She slapped both hands upon Jack's shoulders and looked into his eyes. Her own were wide and filled with purpose.

"Jack, you need to listen to me carefully, okay?" she told him. "This is _very_ important."

Jack nodded solemnly, a pit settling into his stomach.

"Are you ready for this?" she asked nervously, "I don't think you're ready for this."

"Ariela, what?"

"No, no, you aren't ready yet," she insisted with a sigh. "…_But_,"

Frustrated, Jack said "Jeez, Ars, just tell me!"

Ariela's smile spread wide. She pushed him over and Jack toppled over the stump, bumping his head on the ground.

"Tag, you're it!" she cried. She leapt over him and her feet kicked up dirt and leaves as she sped off into the forest path ahead.

"Damn it, Ars," Jack grumbled. He rolled over and picked himself up, brushing the twigs and leaves off of himself as best as he could before darting after her.

"Hey, wait up!"

* * *

Cassandra darted past trees and smacked away low branches as she ran, only her stubbornness fueling her legs. She was determined to rip this hellish ghoul apart. She needed to kill it.

All the while, cheering Cassandra on in a way, the little girl kept chanting "Doesn't love, doesn't care. Daddy's heart just isn't there. You can't run, you can't cry. Either way you're gonna die."

"Stop singing," shouted Cassandra, wheezing, "or I swear to _God_, you'll wish you were still dead!"

Damn it all, she could no longer even see that demonic little brat!

Despite Cassandra's warning, the voice still whispered through the trees; "Clashing swords and lightning storms, it's the reason why you're born. Fight, fight, time to fight. Will she choose the dark or light?"

This tiny voice was challenging her, mocking her.

"_What_ do you _want_?" screamed Cassandra angrily.

"_Cassandra_?"

She stopped short and the world spun around her, trying desperately to catch up. She turned. Standing before her, clear as day, was Jack Spicer. She had hit a clearing and, apparently, so had he.

"What are you doing in my dream?" he asked quickly.

_What_?

"_Your _dream?" she asked, rather insulted by the idea. "This is _your_ dream? Then, why am _I_ the one asleep right now?"

He shrugged.

"Ask yourself that, not me," he said, "I'm just looking for Ariela. We were playing tag."

"Me too," she answered back, her voice quieting as she caught a glimpse of something in the trees behind him.

There she was, that little girl. She was watching them, shyly clinging to a large oak like it were her father's pant leg.

"_There _she_ is_," Cassandra growled, baring her teeth. She stiffened, ready to pounce. The girl did not move. She only stared with all-knowing, brown eyes.

"What?" Jack turned around, but he did not see anything and turned back to Cassandra, arms raised without a clue. "Nothing's there," he dismissed.

"Oh, _yes _there is."

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up, Spicer," she told him, crouching. "I'm hunting."

She licked her lips, thrilled to have cornered her prey. She only needed to get a few steps closer…

"Cassan-"

She leapt forward and Jack let out a high scream.

That was the last thing she heard before her eyes snapped open and candlelight set an orange glow upon her pillow. Furious, Cassandra beat the soft down with a curled fist and a loud snarl. Bastard got in her way.

* * *

Jack rolled from the bed with a short, sharp scream. He curled himself up into a ball, cringing, waiting for the princess to strike him, but the blow never came. He opened his eyes. She was gone and Jack was safe again in his room.

He slouched with a relieved sigh, looking up to the ceiling with thanks. What a strange night. But, it was over now, and the world was once again quiet. The dawn was coming soon.

* * *

Yin Ri had not found much sympathy in her mater's smile when she told him of her battle with Guan. What she found in its place was sarcasm. In truth, he had already known of it when he sensed her distress during the fight, and found her sore ego rather amusing. Yin Ri had hoped that he would let it go and allow her to forget the dishonor with dignity, but she knew better. This morning, she discerned, there would be a major blow to her pride.

Breakfast was at its usual pace and, alongside her report about battling Guan at the edge of the plateau, came her morning dose of criticism and ridicule from Chase. Both usually reveled in the banter, letting off steam in a way their usual formality could not allow, but this morning Yin Ri was not in quite the right mood for his clever jabs and nor was he for hers. But, Chase was rather eager to throw his own banter at her whether she cared to listen or not.

"You've tied up your hair," observed Chase as she set the steaming Oolong tea in front of him.

"Yes," she told him hesitantly, pouring the tea from the kettle into his cup.

He reached out and lightly touched the choppy end of her ponytail, held together with silver clasps along the length of it to keep it secure and in uniform. He wrapped the longer of the end tendrils around his finger with a disbelieving smile.

"You…_cut_ it," he mused, though his light voice could not hide the flash of annoyance that sent a shiver up her spine. He had always been one to favor tradition.

"_Obviously_," clipped Yin Ri, clutching desperately to whatever shred of dignity she had left by this point in both of their eyes.

"Is it because_ Guan _pulled your hair?" he mocked her harshly. "Are you a little _school girl_ now to take such offense to it?"

Yin Ri was silent, fuming with the anger that she denied herself. If she were to lash out now, while Chase was still yet unstable, he would easily kill her. She bit her tongue as she backed away from his hand and took up the tea tray with stiff arms.

"Well, you did a_ fine_ job cutting it," he went on. Chase really _did_ seem to want a rise from her. "I am glad that I do not trust _you_ with my knife."

"_Am _I_ not _your most trusted?" she snapped, her anger finally getting the better of her. She whirled around to look at him, eyes white and tray shaking in her hands against just as white knuckles.

"Obviously not," drawled Chase, already bored with his game. He lounged in his chair, studying her, amused with how deep his words cut her. "If you were, Guan would already be dead."

"I let him _go_ so he could _lead_ us to the _monks_," reminded Yin Ri, gathering up his empty breakfast plate and utensils with swift, erratic hands. She placed the dishes upon the tray with a clatter and it stilled its shaking when she tucked it close to herself. "Is that not what you _wanted_?"

"It is what I have _always_ wanted, Yin Ri," answered Chase with his own reminder. His face was grim when he leaned forward and rested his chin upon his knuckles to watch her clean the table. "But, just _how_ will he lead us to the monks when _you_ ran away with your_ tail_ between your legs?"

Yin Ri bit back her retort, knowing there was absolutely nothing to say that could help her save face. Instead, she stayed silent.

"I know that your passions do not run the same course as mine," Chase told her, raising an eyebrow and taking a slurp of his tea. "Your _motives_ are impure on the_ best_ of days."

"_Impure_?" snorted Yin Ri. "You are no_ saint_, my King."

"Never said I was," he told her with a smile, his eyes trailing up to her face when she straightened herself, "and, _frankly_, neither are you, no matter _what_ you believe."

"It is not a crime to dream of peace, Chase," she told him, "if it is only but a dream."

"And you have attempted to make your _dream_ a reality before," said Chase, "Or have you already _forgotten_ that poor, little ocelot you fought so hard to save?"

Yin Ri locked eyes with him, his words draining life from her.

"Have I not done everything you have ordered of me?" she asked bitterly. "Have I not _given _you _everything_ that I am?"

Chase smiled.

"No," he told her, "not everything. Not yet."

* * *

"She was _right_ there, _Guan_," snapped Kimiko.

She was furious, the tiny thing, pacing around like a panther trapped in a cage. Her pony tail sashayed to the tempo of her steps. Guan watched her, as still and as silent as a mountain. His eyes followed her coolly, his being the only level head in the room.

"Stay _calm,_ Kimiko," he told her, "Chase does not yet know of our hiding place."

Kimiko whirled on him, azure eyes burning with ice-fire.

"_Yet_!" she screamed, "He does _not_ know_ yet_!"

"Kimiko," said Guan, "There is nothing to fear. I ran that tiger off."

"That was his _general_, Guan," Kimiko told him desperately, "That was his _head cat._ She's _definitely_ told him that the two of you have fought by now, not to _mention_ where!"

"Calm down," he repeated sternly.

"And how do we know she _didn't _follow you?" cried Kimiko again, "How are you so_ sure_ that her running away wasn't just some trick to circle you and track you back here?"

"Is there an army of jungle cats at our doorstep?" asked Guan, his frustration getting the better of him, "Do you hear any _screams_ radiating off of the tunnel walls?"

Kimiko stood in place, the blue water of her eyes beginning to churn and boil.

"Go on," said Guan, folding his arms, "take a listen. Do you hear them?"

"I'm not a _child_, Guan!"

"No you are not," he agreed with a harsh bite. "You are the Shoku warrior now and it is your _duty_ to look at these things with a cool head. Only a little girl would fly off of the handle at any spot of troubling news. You are _no_ little girl, Kimiko. Not any more."

Guan could see that his words stung when the fire in her eyes pulled back and hardened like lava pouring into the sea. He sighed when he remembered her age and naivety; how much stress was placed upon her as the pillar of their people and how much it weighed her down.

"These people are depending on you to lead them," he told her softly, "So I suggest you take rein of your temper and look at things from a clearer perspective. Their lives are in_ your_ hands and it will do no one _any_ good if you allow your anger to define your actions."

"I know," clipped Kimiko, wrapping her arms around herself, "I know."

"We shall relocate as soon as possible to the tunnels farther into the city," said Guan. "You are _right_ to be cautious."

He went to leave and, looking back to her sad face, he said "Raimundo would be proud of you."

* * *

Omi stared at the ceiling of the tunnel, watching as the shadows danced around the gaslight's yellow glare upon the concrete and tiles. He and the other boys, Jermaine and Clay, had wandered down an abandoned part of the subway system that had somehow survived. A derailed train had blocked it, uprooted from its course by the disasters Chase had caused alongside his ascension as king.

In the wake of earthquakes and other calamities, caused by Chase throwing the entire world out of balance, this car had flipped over and barricaded the rest of the tunnels surrounding it, killing those on the train instantly but saving the lives of all the others trapped below, safeguarding them form any invasions from Chase's cats.

It was beside this train, where skeletons now lined the seats, picked clean by the rats and bugs of the tunnels after five years of hearty scavenging, where the boys sat. Omi's line of vision regarded the eyes of a skeletal woman scantily clad with her bone-yellow arms wrapped around the pole to keep her structure upright. Her jaw hung loosely and appeared as though it would fall off if you jabbed at it quickly with a finger.

Her skeleton was all that was left of her and the other passengers who died that day five years long past. The silent heroes, Omi called them; their deaths had saved them all without their knowing and their lives would never be honored for it.

Omi snuck a glance up at Jermaine and watched as he surprised a yawn, his teeth flashing white in contrast to his dark skin that nearly blended with the shadows around them. He was sitting atop the abandoned train, fingering the antennae of his walky-talky with hard, dark eyes. His thoughts were on something less pleasant than just sitting around, that Omi was sure of.

Clay sat opposite of Omi, picking at the side of his boot with a hunting knife he had saved during their last trip above ground. He brandished it often now, especially during their patrols in the subway system. One would never know what could be lurking in the places most of their collective tribe dared not go.

Kimiko had ordered the three of them to check the subways, those blocked off by trains and rubble, for any sign of Chase and his warriors. They had split off at first, naturally, but after several hours of searching and finding not even a hair of a feline in sight, they re-grouped here, resting their feet beside resting bones.

"My sister wore something like that," muttered Clay.

"What?" was Omi's startled response.

"That bracelet," Clay answered, nodding to the skeleton Omi had been glancing at once or twice within the past minute. Omi had only just noticed it when Clay had pointed it out; it was a simple silver chain with a glass heart for a pendant. In the middle of that pendant sat a tiny, yellow grain- a mustard seed.

"Purdy, right?"

Omi was not sure how to answer his friend and swallowed, giving Clay a quick nod of his own to acknowledge him.

Clay smiled a bit. "I gave it t' her," he said, motioning his knife in the direction of the skeleton, "Jesse nev'r wore th' darn thing, but I know she liked it. She kept it in a box, safe, or so I'd been told once'er twice. She nev'r liked _girly_ things, but she appreciated the gift."

"My sister was the same way," Jermaine cut in, laughter renewing the youthfulness to his voice, "Stasia hated anything frilly or fancy. She'd take basketball and racing her bike through the neighborhood over pretty clothes or playing with dolls _any_ day."

"Jesse would rather rassle hogs than try on a dress," Clay went on, bonding with Jermaine warmly, "She wanted t' take over Daddy's ranch someday."

"Stasia wanted to be a veterinarian," said Jermaine, beaming. "Girl had never picked up a medical book in her life and just up and decided one day that she wanted to work with animals, never mind that we couldn't have pets in the apartment."

"How old was she?" asked Clay, smiling right along with him.

"Seven," Jermaine told him with a smile, "yours?"

"Thirteen; just a couple of years younger than me."

Omi sat in awe as humble silence swept over them and the sadness settled in at the realization of both those young lives being snuffed out. There was a serene grace about both of those boys' silent mourning that captivated Omi. He watched as Jermaine went back to fumbling with the talky and Clay holding back tears with a snort, avoiding the eyes of his friends. He had often wondered what it was like to have family, to beam with pride at a sibling's triumphs, or to cry with them at their downfalls.

As an orphan, he had not been given that luxury; Omi only had the old monks and Masters of the Temple to talk with for assurance and to whisper away his bad dreams with prayers. Yet, he had hardly felt alone. His friends had become his family, surrogates for the one he had lost years ago beyond his memory. He shuddered to think at losing them and his heart hurt at seeing them suffer, facing the same fears he held deep inside himself over losing that family.

"Your sister was very brave," Omi told Clay. To Jermaine, he said "And I am sure that Stasia would have been as well."

Both boys looked at Omi, each to his own depression, with empty smiles.

"Thanks, Cheese head," said Jermaine quietly.

Omi felt too tired to speak further. His eyelids grew heavy with weary sadness. He turned his head back to the silent heroes and again rested his eyes upon the skeleton's black eyes staring at him from behind the glass. He knew it was not possible, but Omi could swear that the skeleton woman was sad too, listening on silently. Indeed, her face looked sympathetic to him, a trick of wishful thinking on his part for life to return to those dry bones.

In his mind's eye, black hair swept across his vision; silver eyes with tears shining in them, hands clinging desperately around him trying so very hard to let go. Uncomfortably, Omi brought his knees toward him and hugged them to his middle to fight the phantom feeling away. He felt cold. He focused on something else. "What about your mothers?" he asked his friends, "What were they like?"

"Jus' what you'd expect, I reckon," answered Clay with a shrug, "From what I remember, my mama was as sweet as they come. Course, I was still a little boy when she passed on. Boy, did she make the _best_ apple pies. Rhubarb an' strawberry too…What I woudn' give for a slice of one right now."

"Your mother baked pies," said Omi, sullen with disappointment. This was not what he had asked.

"Bout the best I can remember," said Clay with a smile, not catching on to Omi's mood, "When I got old enough, I took out her recipes from this old box she kept 'em in and began baking them for Jesse. It helped me t' feel close to her. It helped Jesse, too. Whenever I baked those pies, I could still hear my mama singing. She sang a lot; she had th' most beautiful voice in th' _whole_ of Texas. Baking those pies helped me to feel like she was still around, y'know?"

Omi felt a lump choke his throat, feeling horrible for becoming annoyed. He felt as though he had betrayed Clay somehow, for getting angry at such a simple memory. Clay had answered his question, though he had not realized it until then. "I am happy," he said, "that you remember your mother so fondly."

Clay smiled. "Me too."

"My mom didn't bake any pies, but," interjected Jermaine, "she always called to make sure that I was okay. Every ten minutes after letting her know that I had landed in China, I'd get this text saying '_Are you at the foster house yet_?' or '_Did you remember to pack your toothbrush_?' '_Should I send you over some money_?" Jermaine laughed a little, "She was funny like that, always worrying. But, she was proud of me, I know that. She'd never stop bragging. Sometimes she'd call me up just to _say _that se was bragging."

Omi could not help but smile. He had a memory of his own of Master Fung worrying over him the first time he began training. He was obviously no mother, but his gentleness and kindness reminded Omi of one. He was a father too, strong and protective. Omi remembered being told of a time when Master Fung had saved him from a tiger that had wandered onto the grounds when he was a baby. He felt lucky that Master Fung had been a little bit of both. It was more that he could say for some of the others who had stayed at the Temple, who had come and gone as quickly as they had arrived, without making connections to any as closely as he had to Master Fung.

"Master Fung bragged of me, too," he said, puffing up with pride he had not felt for a very long while. "He often said that I was the chosen one to vanquish all evil. He trained me into top tip shape and made sure that I was the best warrior in the entire Temple."

"We _know_," snorted Jermaine, "You've only ever _reminded_ us every day since we've met you."

Omi blushed a bit but smiled at Jermaine's genuinely playful grin. "But you are both outstanding warriors too, even if you still cannot stand up to me."

"I don' know about that, lill' buddy," said Clay, "You haven't been feelin' too good for 'bout five years."

"Which is _why_ you should get yourself better soon," Jermaine jumped in quickly, "or we might just catch up to you."

He winked with a smile when he said, "After all, I've outranked you before."

Clay shot him a look and Jermaine's smile dropped, flashing the glare back to him before smiling at Omi again. Omi was younger than them, but he was no fool. He knew what was going on; he would never be better. The only glory he knew he would have now would be from the battles in his memories. This affliction shot him down every time he so much as lifted his foot waist high. Omi knew that he might never take part in fighting again.

"Thank you, Jermaine," he said solemnly, "But you do not need to protect me. I already know that I am wish washed down."

"Washed up," corrected Jermaine, "And _no_, you're not_._ You just need to find out a way to work around your spasms."

"But I cannot!" Omi told him, eyes widening helplessly. "Every time that I train, I feel myself becoming weaker! If a spasm takes me over while I am only training, what will happen to me when I have to think fast during a battle!"

"That's only because you've been training like you were never injured," Jermaine said.

"Maybe you jus' need to find some other way t' train," added Clay sympathetically.

"And how do you suppose I do that?" snapped Omi.

Jermaine and Clay looked to each other, both with the same question in their eyes. It was Jermaine who answered him, sighing deeply and shrugging his shoulders. "We don't know."


	8. Velleitie

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

Velleitie

(n.) a wish or powerful desire for something that nonetheless is not or cannot be followed by the actions meant to peruse it.

_eight__

The rain splattered against the dusty, cracked sidewalks, turning the white of them to murk-ish grey. The fat droplets mingled with the dirt of the dry ground. Men covered unfinished statues and cranked rope pulleys back into coils while the woman covered produce, swatting away flies and hiding their wares with thick curtains and starchy blankets. Cats were on the prowl and as proof, a banded orange tail slithered into a dark alley, the growl of the tiger softly breaking the silence the sudden rain brought into the city.

A lion jumped upon one of the stands while a woman hurriedly slammed shut the dusted window from the apartment above him. He clumsily pulled down the curtain and obliviously knocked away the items perched atop the wooden plank of the makeshift table. He plodded along with clacking claws extended and whipped his tail feverously, dipping his large head behind the stand to spy a rat. He pounced with a growl and the rat shrieked quickly before being snuffed out forever between the great cat's jaws.

Omi and Clay were huddled together, watching this from a few short alleys away, awaiting Guan's signal. He and Kimiko were farther up, closer to the human compound. Jermaine was farther down the road, crouched upon an old dumpster as surveillance, the stench of the unclean thing masking his scent from the cats and hiding him in plain sight. Their mission was to rescue more slaves, to sneak them out of the city safely and without the cats' notice. Easier said than done.

Even if they could find any strays or talk to those huddled within the complex, not many would willingly go with them for fear of being caught and devoured by the tigers and panthers slinking about in the rain. Still, Omi had to hope that they could save at least one unfortunate soul form their fates as hopeless slaves.

A whistle; the sound of a cooing bird. That was the signal. Omi whipped his head up to see Guan motioning to him and Clay. They darted out from their hiding place and silently jumped behind the wall of the next alley while the lion was distracted with his new chew toy.

"Up here," said Clay, lifting himself up onto the rusted, old fire escape that somehow still remained attached to the alley wall.

Omi felt a sharp pain shoot down from his shoulder to his back as he reached up to join his friend, but he held fast to the railing, sucking in a breath to keep from crying out. Clay helped him up and kept a firm grip on the younger boy's arm to help keep him steady on the rickety metal that shifted at the added weight.

Clay had Omi climb the rest of the way before him and they clambered to the roof, undetected by the cats scouring the streets below them. Like rats, they scurried along the slanted roof, hiding between the shadows and places the birds dare not perch. It was not long before the two boys jumped down into the alley where Guan and Kimiko were positioned.

Kimiko rested the palm of her hand along the back of Omi's neck firmly and looked him in the eye. "You're alright?" she asked, the icy blue of her eyes melting into warmer waters.

Omi nodded firmly, not wanting to show weakness, least of all to her. Kimiko looked to Guan and Clay, the ice returning to her stare. "Let's go," she told them, locking eyes with all three, "Jermaine's waiting for us. That garbage won't mask our scent forever."

She was right. Omi shrunk against the wall when he noticed a panther lift its sleek, black head with green eyes blazing. Its nose flared when it snuffed at the air. The panther growled unpleasantly before crouching low with its teeth flashing threateningly. Thankfully, it had not noticed the group of warriors and went off into the opposite direction to seek out its target, whatever or whoever that poor soul may have been.

Kimiko flashed out of the alley first, sprinting toward Jermaine, nearly slamming into the pile of trash he sat upon when she stopped short, out of breath. Omi watched Kimiko look back, eyes locking onto him. She held up her hand to signal that they stay hidden and Omi realized why when he heard a lion growl to the right of the corner that sheltered them from the majority of the prowling guards' views.

Guan held out his arm to keep Clay and Omi back, barring either from moving as the three of them pressed their backs to the wall. They each held their breath until the large shadow disappeared and the growling quieted.

The rain began to fall more heavily and the fat droplets of the storm's humble beginnings thinned into pin needles that stabbed at the back of Omi's neck and weighed down his clothes. The rain cooled all of their skin, replenishing it from the heat of the day. Omi was glad for it, despite the uncomfortable humidity that thickened the air in his lungs. At least the water would help to further mask their scents.

"You two first," whispered Guan, "Omi, go ahead; Clay, second."

Omi darted out of the lightless alley just as Kimiko had done and scrambled to not be seen by the animals that paced just beyond the corner of the street. Clay was soon behind him and, being a little less agile than his other two friends, landed into the pile of cabbage and rotted fruit when he skidded to a halt.

"Be quiet! You'll alarm the-" hissed Kimiko, but a growl interrupted the second half of her reprimands. That growl came from the panther Omi had seen earlier. And, that panther's growl was cut short by the loud crack of Guan snapping its neck.

Kimiko nodded to Guan and Guan nodded back. He hoisted the dead cat over his shoulder and dropped it into the alley from whence the group came. He laid it flat to blend into the shadows, undetectable by sight, before joining them on silent footsteps.

"It will not take long before the others catch a whiff of their friend's corpse," Guan quietly warned them, "We should move quickly."

"Agreed," snapped Kimiko, shooting a glare to Clay, who was currently brushing a bit of lettuce from his shoulder. She looked to Jermaine, who tossed her one of the walkys from his belt.

"Clay and I will take the high road for surveillance," he told her, propping a foot up onto the fire escape above him. "You, Guan and Omi should try to sneak into the lower complex. I've already noticed that there's a lower flow of cats there."

"Thanks," said Kimiko as Clay joined Jermaine on the fire escape. She looked to both of them, clipping the walky onto the back pocket of her jeans. "Just stay safe, both of you."

"Don't worry, Kim," Clay assured her, "We'll be alright."

"Surveillance is _easy_," added Jermaine, "It's _you_ guys who need to stay safe."

Kimiko's pouting lips lifted into an unconvincing smile.

"Take it easy, though, okay?" she told them. "We'll meet you at the rendezvous point once we've secured the refugees."

* * *

The human complex was once the sight of Senado Square. The streets before the fall were beautiful and busting with life and energy. Now, however, they were barren and torn apart. All that could remind the three warriors of the miraculous tourist attraction was the black and white tiles of the long winding streets of this once grand place, placed into long waves of strips with whimsical fancy. Those tiles were now cracked and fissured with grass poking up between the gaping spider webs; the buildings that lined the curving streets were crumbling and in ruins.

Yellow paint was faded to brown and chipped down to the bricks, gaping bald spots on the glorious, yellow head of the sweets shoppe that had been ransacked and destroyed. The carts of vendors were turned over and had been rummaged through, the unusable items left spilled over into the road and trampled underfoot by screaming mobs, whose cries were now forever adrift in time to fill the air with the dread of that fateful day.

The rain drained the color of everything around the trio, disrupting the wild beauty of the abandoned street. The pattering rain upon the rooftops and broken signs still swinging from empty stores whispered the song of lost ghosts; lives long forgotten in the emptiness of this dark and dreary place.

As they slowly crept through Senado Square, they soon found themselves in a large open space where they caught their first glimpse of the St. Paul's Cathedral ruins, once historic Macau's most famous attraction. It stood proud and strong, unmoved by the devastation that was wrought upon the whole of Hong Kong. Unlike the inhabitants of Senado Square and the narrow streets surrounding it, who were oppressed and beaten into submission, St. Paul's Ruins was unmoving.

The Cathedral was, in actuality, a façade sitting upon a small hill. Stone steps lead up to it, the cobblestone path melting into cracked concrete and rubble. Pillars rose from the slab, decorating the nooks and crannies where the statues of ancient Holy men stood vigil over the winding streets below them. A dove with its wings outstretched adorned the top of the ruin, as if attempting to shelter the monks with its wings from the rain. A woman was etched out of the stone, her foot raised to step on the necks of a seven-headed hydra. Chinese characters read to them '_Holy Mother tramples the heads of the dragon'_.

Omi's attention was drawn to the words; he was awed by the image and how strong and proud the carving looked, though the features were feminine. In a flash, his mind whirled to black hair and silver eyes. They reflected back to him through the eyes of the carving and ancient whispers found their way into his ears.

Omi could not understand what they were telling him. They were all too loud and jumbled; ten voices shouting at once to him and all unbearably unclear. He blinked and scuttled back, frightened, but as soon as the image came, it was gone. He was no longer staring into the eyes of the dream woman, whose hair was like ink and whose eyes burned as white hot coals through his skin.

Guan stopped, noticing Omi's distress. The old master looked back at him, but Omi did not explain. He instead kept his mouth shut and jogged toward Guan, unhappy but relieved to be rid of the ghost that haunted him. His mind was now abuzz with questions he refused to ask, for fear of already knowing the answer.

* * *

"_No one_ is leaving with you," grumbled the old man. His wrinkled face, puckered lips and beady eyes poking out from under bushy eyebrows reminded Omi of a grumpy old dog. He smelled sour like one too. He glowered at Kimiko, the whiskers on the old man's chin bobbing with the folds of his turkey neck as he said "Little girls and boys should not be playing hero, not with the Dragon King's guard about. Now I suggest you all leave before nightfall, else more than just a stray cat or two can put your lives in danger."

"With all due respect," said Guan, stepping in front of Kimiko to keep her from lunging at the stubborn old fool, "I am no child. I am Master Monk Guan, last Master of the ancient Xiaolin way. I can guarantee your safety out of Lóng zhī ché-"

"Master!" harrumphed the old dog, "I've _heard_ of you 'masters'! Yer all talk! Bunch'a puffs of hot air with nothing but _prayers_ to back you up! So, _Master_, where were you when Hong Kong fell? When _China_ fell? _The world_? _Hmm_?"

"I-I," Guan was taken aback by the old man's harshness. Normally quick to offer a cool head, he was thrown off guard and was at a loss for words.

"You gonna _pray _for me, Master?" continued the old man hotly, "Gonna beg your_ ancestors_ to free us all? I have an idea! Pray for the rain to stop! Maybe then I'll join you! Whadd'ya say, can you make the rain stop, Master?"

Guan collected himself, but Omi noticed the shaking of the balled fists at his sides. "Not even your own ancestors would stop the rain for _you_, my friend. You dishonor them with your stubbornness."

"Stubbornness or _wisdom_?" the old dog shot back bitterly, _"Any_ fool can see Chase has already won. We are all nothin' but sheep and cattle to him. And we'll be nothin' but cat toys if we go with you, too. Sheep for slaughter. That's what we are. Freedom is a myth. Somethin' we tell our kids at night to make 'em shut up so those monsters out there won't hear em' cryin'."

"It won't be like that if you come with us," said Kimiko, "We have a refugee camp- somewhere where the cats can't get to us. You'll be safe."

"Safe!" barked the old dog, "Aint nothin' safe about you lot! Now get out of my borough!"

"Please, if you would only just listen to-" Omi chimed in.

"_You_ listen, little boy!" the old man snarled, "For far too long these here good folks have been hidin' and cowerin' in the dark while Chase and his cats parade outside and you '_warriors_' have been twiddlin' your thumbs! You all haven't been around for five years and _you_ expect _us_ to trust you _now_? Do you know who these people trusted to keep them safe for the past five years? _Me_, that's who! And I'm still doin' it too, _without_ the help of sniveling, snot-nosed brats like you!"

"You _stupid _old man!" began Kimiko, but Guan cut her off.

"Enough," he snapped before looking to the old man with a scowl, "We shall leave you in peace, my friend. Stay safe and be well."

"You ain't no friend of mine, _Maste_r." the old man grumbled, but Guan had already turned his back to him and said nothing else.

He led Kimiko and Omi out of the room and into a hallway that glowed softly with the sickly yellow of dozes of tiny tea candles. People were huddled together along the wall between the gaps of about five or six candles between, all appearing to have been shriveled into nothing, an echo and a mockery of their former selves. Omi saw that several were sick and shaking with fever. A small child moaned as he lay in his mother's arms, complaining about a sour stomach. The stench of decay and vomit wafted through the air and a chorus of hacking lungs and wheezing throats rose up from the open rooms around them.

"They don't even quarantine their sick," grumbled Kimiko as they walked, "Taking care of them, _my ass_. They'll all be dead within a couple of months if they don't do anything about keeping the healthy away from the sick."

"This is not our place to judge, Kimiko," Guan told her from over his shoulder. His eye caught Omi's when he said "The elder was right; we are no help to them. Not anymore."

Omi's heart sank, but he knew Guan's words were true. These people were weak and terrified. Half of them were sick and the other half were starving, crammed together in a dirty, damp hovel of a place compiling of a few apartments without much elbow room for anyone. More complexes like this one, housing around sixty or seventy people each, littered the blocked off human compound, all in very close proximity to each other. No wonder so many were sick. He wondered where these people buried their dead, or if they did at all.

"Wait," a woman weakly grasped Omi's pant leg as he walked by her. Her bare arm was covered with sores. The rest of the poor woman had a blanket wrapped around her. The bone-thinness of her arm reminded Omi of the skeleton woman with its mouth hanging agape from an unheard scream. He winced when the woman brought her other arm up to try and grab at him with a firmer hold.

"Please," she rasped, "Take my daughter with you. I heard you talking to the elder. I know you can save her, please."

Guan pulled Omi away from the woman's grasp and she was too weak to hold on to him. She fell to the ground helplessly. She could not even lift her head as she began pleading again. "Please, please."

"We shall do as you ask," said Guan, "but know that if she is too ill, she may not make the journey."

"Do whatever you can," the woman begged, "Just take my Yural away from this place."

"Mom?" A girl stood in the doorway next to the sickly woman.

She was a miracle in herself, a beacon of hope that not all of the people living in the complex were dying. She appeared to be around Kimiko's age, perhaps a bit younger. The girl stood tall and frail but with the faint red blush of health still clinging to her cheeks. Dark, matted hair framed her dirty face where large brown eyes looked at the group warily from atop a short, broad nose. Her jaw was set stubbornly into a harsh frown, thinning her lips into a hard line and bringing brutishness to her round face.

"What are you people doing to my mom?" she asked with a glare aimed Guan's way.

She helped her mother to stand on wobbly legs. The woman's weak resilience against her own weight shook her so violently that she appeared as a skeleton leaf just barely clinging to a tree branch; the wind would have carried her off without so much as a sigh if it were to blow past.

"They're taking you out of here," the brave, poor woman told her. The sweetness of the mother's love for her daughter shined past the grey fog in her eyes while she dug bony fingers into Yural's arm. "You are going to be safe now."

"I'm not leaving you," Yural told her. Looking to Guan, she repeated to him defiantly, "I'm not leaving her."

"You have to, Penny girl," the woman said, "It's too late for me. You have to."

"We will not force you to come with us if you wish to stay," Guan told them, but the woman's eyes became bug-eyed at the thought. They were too large for her bony face.

"No, please, you must take her with you!" she cried, "You mu-"

She doubled over, coughing violently. Green bile dribbled from her mouth past the ghastly wheezing and gagging. She fell to the floor after hacking up most of the liquid and lay in a fetal position, still and quiet, at Yural's feet.

"Mom?" asked Yural, her voice shaking. Like a siren, her voice rose up from the uncertain question into a loud wail, "_Mom_?"

"Come with us," said, Guan, rushing in to try and soothe the girl's rising panic, "There is nothing you can do for your mother now. Please, Yural."

"No," Yural shook her head, her panic bubbling up from the pit of her stomach and pouring out through the tears in her eyes and the bubbles in her throat, "No, no! You can't make me leave! I'm not leaving her!"

"We won't make you," assured Kimiko sternly, "But your mother _is_ dead. I'm sorry."

"We are sorry for your loss," added Guan, "But your mother's dying wish was for you to come with us to our base so that you would be safe. It would be a great grievance for her if she knew that you did not honor it."

"_What_ grievance?" snapped Yural, "My mother is dead! Just leave me alone!"

"As you wish," said Guan, "Stay well, Yural."

As he had with the elder, Guan turned his back and walked away without another word. Kimiko followed his suit, but Omi strayed to watch Yural bend a knee to hold her mother's corpse, mewling softly into the dead woman's hair.

"I am sorry," he told her.

She looked up at him, eyes glistening with bitter tears. Her chin quivered when she said "So am I."

* * *

The red sky was quickly fading to black and blue along the horizon line. The rain had cleared, leaving the musky smell of the earth and enriching the crisp sharpness of color upon anything the droplets had fallen upon in their wake. The compound was dreary and damp despite the pop of green from the grass and vines that poked out of sidewalks and crept up alley walls.

The smell of sickness still lingered, even outside, mixing unpleasantly with the smell of mildew. The stench seemed to be sticking to the monks' clothes when they stepped out into the open air, clinging to them as desperately as the sick woman from the complex had. Omi felt a chill as the wet fog kissed the back of his neck and sent the strange smell into his lungs. He held his breath, not just for the stench, but to ward the spirit of death away, to not tempt it with his still unlived life.

"This mission was a failure," Guan told Kimiko and Omi when they caught up to him on the corner of the patchy road, "but at least they will know of us when we come again."

"_If_ we come again," grumbled Kimiko, "If it isn't already too _late_, anyway."

"That is _enough_, Kimiko," Guan told her sternly, "Your role as the Shoku warrior is to _protect _these people. Do not abandon the whole over the ignorance of the few."

"Master Monk Guan is right," Omi told her, "They need our help. They cannot help it if they are as stubborn as you are and will not listen to reason."

Kimiko whirled on him, about to tell him off, but a voice in the distance beat her voice to the open air.

"Wait!"

That voice belonged to Yural. She was waving to them, flailing her arms like a downed bird flapping a broken wing. Beyond her, more people came out of the woodwork, rallying behind Yural with wary stances and broken stares. A man cupped his hands around his mouth to shout at them.

"Can you really help us?" he called.

A woman joined him "Do you know a place where we can hide from the cats?"

Kimiko shot out towards the crowd before Guan could answer them. She met the people half way down the street. Her legs were stiff and spread apart, ready to run in case of a riot. Her shoulders were arched back and ready to swing punches at anyone stupid enough to try and attack her.

"Listen to me, all of you," she told them, looking from eye to eye, "We have a place where you can be safe. Where your sick will be quarantined and cared for, where your children can sleep without being afraid of waking up to claws and teeth in the middle of the night; where you can rest easy knowing your wives and sons and husbands and daughters will not have to live as slaves."

"This sounds too good to be true!" cried someone.

Another faceless voice called out "Is it paradise?"

"No!" she answered, "It's not paradise. Far from it. There isn't much food, not much water, but at least, together, we'll be free. If you are willing to risk going out there to lose at least _one day_ of being in here, then I suggest you come with me."

"Kimiko!" warned Guan. Omi saw the anger in his eyes, "_What are you saying_?"

Kimiko looked back to him, unfazed by his irritation.

"I'm telling them the truth," she told him, "We can't sugarcoat things anymore. They've gotten too bad, and you know it."

She looked back toward the crowd, eyeing each and every one boldly, but Omi could feel waves of uncertainty roll off of her back.

"I know it's going to be rough, and that some of us might not make it, but believe me," she told them, "this may be your only chance for freedom. But, you have to be brave. If _anyone_ straggles behind, we can't guarantee your safety. If a cat picks you off, your scent will lead it to the entire group. So, anyone who doesn't think they are up for a long trek, you better go back inside of your house."

"You heard the girl," rumbled a scratchy voice from beyond the throng of people congregated around Kimiko, "Go home! You're safer here, I assure you!"

It was the elder Guan had faced off with. He walked through the crowd and came face-to-face with Kimiko. His quivering mouth, sputtering from fear and rage, wriggled the flaps of his leathery neck as he looked her in the eye.

"Nightfall's approaching," he said, addressing the crowd but still keeping a leering eye to Kimiko, "so you better be quick about it! We _all_ know what comes about at night."

When he said this, the crowd scattered, leaving a few to remain. Those who dispersed trickled away like the rain water, dripping back into their hovels one by one like droplets. Those who stayed, only four now, watched the pair standing in the middle of the road warily, unsure of what to do now.

"Now I suggest you and your friends get out of here too," the old man warned Kimiko, "After all, the cats aren't the only things to prowl the badlands at night, now are they?"

They stared each other down; Kimiko glaring knives at him and the old man smiling faintly back.

"Kimiko,"

She ignored Guan's soft warning, balling her fists as the man's ugly smile spread wide.

"_Kimiko_," Guan called again, louder.

"Fine," she snapped, breaking eye contact in the heat of her anger.

She looked back to the old man, whose yellow teeth and sour breath seemed to add a darker shade to her mood.

"_This isn't over_," Kimiko warned him, walking back toward Omi.

She looked at Omi then and he swallowed his breath. He had not seen Kimiko this angry since the day they had lost Raimundo. He knew that those words she spoke to the old man were not a mere empty threat. They would be seeing him again.

He looked to the old man, who stood smiling with his arms crossed. He was puffed up like a rooster and Omi thought he might crow at the sudden inflation of his pride, but the only indication of such was the chuckle that rumbled from his throat as he eyed the three of them walking away.

Yural rushed forward past the elder, snatching the smile from his face.

"Hold on," she told them, grasping on to Kimiko's arm, "I want to come with you…_We _want to come with you."

The other three people, a man, a woman and a boy around Omi's age, possibly a bit younger, walked gingerly forward. They seemed to be afraid of the elder and hesitated when they came closer to him. But, the boy took his mother by the hand and gently guided her forward, followed by who was presumably his father.

"What?!" sputtered the old dog angrily, "No! You'll be killed! If you go with them, you'll all die!"

"Oh shut up," snapped Kimiko, "They're _definitely_ safer with us than they are you."

"You listen here, _little girl_," the old man growled, pointing a finger to her, "If you take one step out of this complex once night hits, I can guarantee _none _of you will last until sunrise. Those _cats_ will eat you _alive_!"

The boy comforted his mother as she began to weep uncontrollably, hugging her tightly and petting her hair. He looked to the other man, who took his hand sympathetically, and then looked to Kimiko.

"Is it true what you said?" he asked, voice withered by dehydration, "That we'll be safe if we travel with you?"

Kimiko eyed his mother with a grimace.

"I'm not going to lie," she said, "the journey won't be easy. Someone may very well die. But, we will do what we can to make sure you guys make it to our base safely."

The boy stayed quiet for a minute, thinking. His eyebrows furrowed and he looked as though he were having a tough time deciding the fate of his mother and himself. Brown eyes hit blue when he told Kimiko "We will come with you."

"This is insane!" shouted the old man, "It's suicide!"

"It's freedom!" Yural told him, shocking everyone into silence. She stared them all down and with a smile, said "And I for one am going to take that freedom with any chance I can get."

Omi looked to her, surprised. She shyly smiled, then looked away from him.

Catching Guan's eye, she said "It's what my mother would have wanted, right?"

* * *

Omi was first out of the complex. Despite being wrong about many things, the old dog was right about how quickly night was approaching. Omi could hardly see, even though red still pulsated through the clouds above, it mingled with dark blue and purple; black was devouring the horizon like a voracious beast, hungry to dispose of the light. It was not the only hungry creature tonight, either.

Though he could not see them, Omi could sense them. Cats were beginning to slink through the maze of the old, abandoned streets. He could hear faint growls and the scraping of claws.

He held a hand up to Kimiko, who was leading the group behind him, and she inched them back until Omi could no longer hear the cats near by. He jumped at every growl instinctually; every dark shadow bouncing off of walls and bounding out of alleys looked like terrible creatures out to devour any living soul who dared come near.

Omi turned to Kimiko after spotting a tiger slinking into a window of one of the abandoned buildings. "I will go ahead. My scent may distract them."

"Omi, no!" Kimiko hissed, grasping his wrist. He looked back to her.

"Get these people to the rendezvous," he told her, "You are the Shoku warrior and everyone back at the base needs for you to lead them."

"I'm not letting you do this, Omi," Kimiko said, her grip growing tighter around his bony wrist, "Guan can handle the cats-"

"Exactly," Omi cut her off, "Guan _can _handle the cats. If anything happens, he can protect the group…If I were to get another spasm, I would only just slow you down. At least as a cover I can be of better use to _you_ than I was Raimundo."

"Omi,"

"This is not goodbye, Kimiko," Omi assured her, gently prying her hand from his wrist, "I will meet you at the rendezvous with Jermaine and Clay. Just get everyone back to the base safely."

"Fine. Stay safe, Omi," she told him, "But, if you come back hurt _at all_, I swear I'll kill you."

"Agreed," said Omi, his smile widening.

He jumped out of the alley. "And do not worry," he added, "If those cats come near me, they will not know who hit 'em!"

"_What_ hit 'em, Oms," Kim corrected.

"That too!" he said before bounding down the street.

* * *

Omi could only hope that he was doing the right thing. His nerves were a ticking time bomb. Any passing second might turn into a body-wracking spasm. He would need to pace himself or his dead body might be the thing distracting the cats from the others.

He climbed the stairs leading up to the old façade of St. Paul's, hoping to get a higher advantage and to watch over the group as they attempted to travel out of Senado Square quickly. Omi scanned the streets below, squinting his eyes as he peered into the dark corners and spaces that were growing quickly on account of the darkening sky. He spotted them, the shade of Kimiko's white tee bouncing off of the last light of the day giving away their position. Guan was at the rear of the group, keeping them tightly together. He looked around every so often, checking for any cats that might sneak up on them from behind.

Omi could see that they were all clear from Guan's end, but Omi's eyes became drawn to the corner just beyond Kimiko's line of vision. She was oblivious to the black shape of a panther in the dim light stalking toward them. It kept to the shadows intelligently but Omi had caught it darting between streets.

He jumped from his position on the wall and ran out to the center, waving his arms. "Kimi-"

He was cut off, the wind being knocked from his chest, as a cat jumped him from behind. The lioness growled, her hot breath dampening the back of his neck. Omi laid perfectly still, waiting for his chance. He took a clump of dry earth into his palm. He felt the cat open its jaws, lightly scrapping his skin with its teeth. The lioness shifted her weight to get a better angle on him, but that was her mistake.

Omi twisted around, shoving the dirt into the lioness's eyes. He threw the cat off by the element of surprise, distracted by her sudden loss of eyesight. He rolled away from the lioness as she recovered and shot up to his feet. Breathing heavily, he looked into the brown eyes of the hungry beast, circling her just as she was circling him.

"You've made a mistake in attacking me," he warned the lioness.

She growled back at him, licking her chops.

"So be it," he said crouching into a stance, "As my friend Raimundo would say, if you are hungry, try a fist taco!"

The lioness lunged, snarling. Omi was barely able to doge her, but when he did, he swung his foot around to grind it into the cat's side. It yowled and spun on him, furious, to swipe at him with its claws. Omi spun, clearing the attack. But, something clicked in place where it was not meant to, and he fell. A spasm, one that shook him more than any other before, took over his body.

He could not breathe. No matter how desperately his lungs cried for air, they refused to take any in. The pain the spasm caused was far too great. He felt his blood burn like fire, his muscles tensing wrathfully with resistance. And, all the while, the lioness stalked closer to him.

A snarl broke the air around him. Another cat found its way into their little showdown. He could feel its presence standing over him. The flick of a tail brushed against his face. Black and orange. Between the convulsions, that is what he saw. It was a tiger. This was it; they would both fight over him. They would tear him a part. It was over now. He was dead. All Omi could do was wait and hope that the spasm would knock him out before they started eating.

* * *

"Back off!" Yin Ri snarled.

Her head was bent low, her eyes flashing white, "He is _mine_."

Nirasa flinched, but did not listen. In retaliation, she growled, returning the challenge with the dip of her own massive head. "No," she rumbled, though she could not hide the stench of fear that wafted from behind her ears, "We have orders."

"Yes," Yin Ri said, "And now those orders come from _me_. Back. _Off_."

"Whyshould _you _get all of the glory!" Nirasa tried to sound intimidating, but her voice came to Yin Ri's ears in the form of a desperate whine, "It is not right! We are just as much his loyal companions as you!"

Yin Ri snapped at her, having enough. Her jaws clamped around the lioness's ear and Nirasa mewled out, terrified.

"Do _not_ test me, _cub_," Yin Ri warned, "My patience has _already_ been worn thin! Leave!"

Nirasa struggled, breaking free but at the expense of her ear. It had nearly been skinned by Yin Ri's teeth. At the force of her pull, Nirasa tumbled. And, at the tumble, Yin Ri advanced with a swift trot, coming upon Nirasa before she had time to blink.

The lioness cowered as Yin Ri bent her head, nearly touching noses with her. She placed a heavy paw on the back of Nirasa's neck forcing her maw into the dirt.

"_Now_," she growled, "If it were not for _Cassandra_, I would have already killed you. If you _ever_ question my authority again, there will be consequences. Do you _understand_?"

"Yes, A-alpha!" cried Nirasa, trying once again to wriggle free.

"You are lucky I am feeling generous today, Nirasa," Yin Ri continued, "But, if the boy dies before we get him to _His Majesty_, then we _all_ will have hell to pay. He has made that clear enough."

Nirasa's fearful frown morphed into an upturned flash of her canines. "Then, I suppose you should work on healing him quickly," she said, "The young Water Dragon appears to not have much time left."

Yin Ri released her at once and whipped around to look at Omi. His spasms had quieted to mere twitches, but other than that, he was not moving.

"NO!" she roared, running to him. Four legs became two as she rushed to his side. Her ponytail swing violently and the silver clasps clanked together when she fell to her knees beside him.

Nirasa, by now, was long gone. The cowardess sped off the moment she was let go. But, that sewer rat no longer mattered. Yin Ri's focus was now solely on saving Omi.

Yin Ri tossed away her mask and flattened her palms to Omi's chest, one on top of the other. She pumped them up and down, sobbing; muttering to herself, to him. "Breathe, baby, breathe," she mumbled frantically, "Come on, sweetheart, _breathe_!"

She covered his mouth with hers and blew in air, all that she had. She came up for more, sucking it in and pushing it into his lungs the moment hers were full again. When she came up a third time, she pumped again.

"You need to wake up, baby, come on!" Yin Ri begged.

His eyes fluttered, but she was unsure whether it was intentional or his nerves were reacting on their own. She tapped the side of his face and pinched his cheeks, looking for a reaction. _Any_ reaction.

"Stay with me, Omi, stay with me!"

* * *

"Guan, behind you!" Kimiko shouted, blocking the African warrioress's staff with a broken pipe she swiped from the street.

With the warrioress's hands distracted, Kimiko took the chance to punch her square in the mask, hurting her own knuckles more than her opponent's face. The African huntress was knocked to the ground nonetheless, freeing Kimiko to rush to the aid of the refugees at the mercy of a tiger.

Guan was facing off with the berserker. The bear skin-adorned terror swung his battle hammer at Guan effortlessly, tossing it as one would skip a stone. It stuck into the brick wall of the alley beside Guan's head, crumbling rock instead of crushing bone thanks to Kimiko's warning.

Guan charged the berserker as Kimiko squared off with the tiger-turned-shogun. She dodged both swords the faceless shogun aimed for her neck and swept low to knock out his shins. Unfortunately, his red armor, more specifically his leg guards, absorbed most of her blow.

She dodged another swing of his swords and swung herself behind him to violently jab the pipe into the back of his neck, a small open spot of skin peeking out at her like a target from his bent head from under the helmet, and he fell just as easily as the huntress had. Good, she hoped that his neck had been broken.

"Guan!" she yelled, tossing him the pipe while the berserker advanced on him.

He grasped for it just in time and met his opponent's hammer half way. Now they were two bulls grappling with equal strength, neither able to push the other aside. They pulled apart, pushing off of each other, and the berserker came forward, swinging his hammer overhead. Guan ducked low, avoiding it, and rammed the pole into the warrior's chest. When the berserker fell forward, Guan gave him a second blow on the back of his neck and the berserker, like his comrades, fell.

Guan looked to Kimiko and nodded. She nodded back, affirming silently that all was well and everyone was safe, but one thing bothered her more than the trap sprung by the cats; more than the feeling that this was more than a random encounter. Was it their plan to separate Omi from the group?

"We need to find him," Kimiko told Guan, pure rage chilling her blood to ice.

Guan did not need to ask. They both already knew that Omi was in grave danger.

* * *

"Stay with me, Omi," she begged, "stay with me!"

Omi was not sure if he was dreaming or if he had already died. Someone was begging for him to live, someone whose voice he could not recognize, but it sounded familiar. How a scent could reawaken old memories, this person's voice reminded him of something so very far away.

"Death will not have you," she, whoever she was, vowed, pumping his chest, "I will not let him have you!"

Omi felt their mouth cover his and breathe into him. His chest rose with the intake of air, but still he could not move.

"_I will not let him have you_…." The woman with the black hair, the one from his reoccurring dream, had said that too. His eyes fluttered and he swore that it was her standing over him, egging him on to breathe, to live.

"Omi, please!" she whimpered, pumping his chest again, "You _need_ to _breathe_!"

Again his eyes fluttered and he saw more of her. Her hair was tied back, but he knew at once by her uniform who she was. It was Chase's general, the one who nearly killed him and left him with this curse. Why, after attempting to kill him before, would she be trying to save him?

He moaned, struggling to ask just that, but his movement shocked her. She held still, watching Omi with silver eyes scanning him over for any more signs of recovery.

"Omi?" she whispered hopefully.

He could feel his chest rise and fall on its own again, but his breaths were shallow and he was slow to revive. She had noticed it too, and Omi could swear that she smiled, but his eyes were still too unfocused and weak to smooth out the blurred edges of her face.

"It is alright nowe," she murmured, touching his face gently. The tones of her voice were odd, ranging high like the ringing of bells. They choked her as she repeated "Yer alright nowe,"

Like the woman in his dream, almost identically, the general whipped her head to the side in a panic; she heard someone coming. She looked back to Omi, then back toward the intruders, and darted off in a flash. She was gone. Only the dark sky faced him now, but it was not long before he could hear Kimiko calling for him.

"I-m, I'm here," he croaked out weakly. Trying again, almost in a shout, he repeated himself, "I'm here!"

It was Guan who had found him first, and he scooped the lad up into his arms like a doll. Omi's heal rolled toward Guan's bicep and rested as he closed his eyes painfully against the harsh tones of his friends' voices. They were asking him so many questions at once, competing with each other for his attention.

"A lioness attacked me," he told them, praying that they would be quiet, "I had a spasm and could no longer breathe."

"That is impossible," Guan's shock was apparent, "How did you survive?"

"It should have killed you," agreed Kimiko.

"Yin Ri, the general," he said, not believing his own words, "she saved my life."

* * *

Yin Ri released the breath that she was holding. She was watching them from around the corner of the nearest building, the cats she had taken on patrol with her each retuning from their warrior forms to their catskins at her feet.

"This mission was a failure," she told them, killing herself to look away from Omi, safe and sound. She glared at each and every one of the cats with her, Ensom, Levande, Grimmur; they were the top three ranks underneath herself and they were_ beaten_ by an old man and a little girl. Chase would not be happy with that news and he would be even less displeased that she had not taken Omi to him herself as he had ordered.

"You are all _useless_," she growled. Each cowered in their way with the exception of Grimmur, who Yin Ri knew was afraid of nothing, not even her and not even Chase. The Siberian tiger flicked his tail unhappily and looked to the happy scene.

"Not _sowe_ u'eless," he said, brogue thrice as thick as hers and more southern too. He turned his eyes back to her, "Follow'm te their hidn' place, fly a scout-er two 'n slay'm 'n their beds, jos as th' King says."

Yin Ri said nothing to this. She knew her orders, as they did: Kill the others but take Omi alive, no matter who had to die. She would rather it be Nirasa than Guan, if worse came to worse.

"Our orders are clear," interjected Levande, always quick to be outspoken against Yin Ri's decisions, "Attack the monks, kill them all, but save the Water Dragon for _him_. We should just go out there and kill them now while they are weakened and herded _away_ from the other two."

"No," Yin Ri said, returning the mask to her face. She looked back one more time to her son, the boy these animals would never know was hers, and said "We are finished here. Move out."

* * *

**AN: I'm so sorry. I really am. I literally hate myself for it, but this was a necessary bit and you'll see why later. I promise you this; the sad bits were not in vain. There are reasons.  
This was supposed to be the Mother's Day update, too. **_**I've honestly never been so glad for class running my writing schedule because this would have been terrible to read on Mother's Day.**_**  
I took my mother out for coffee after writing this, just so you know, so you aren't alone if you miss your mom or whatever. Again, I'm sorry for the side effect of depression that comes along with this chapter. **

**Happy Belated Mother's Day.**


	9. Schwellenangst

**Disclaimer: I do not own XS. Any characters that you do not recognize are of my own design.**

_Schwellenangst_

(n.) fear of embarking on something new; crossing a threshold

_nine__

He would kill her.

"_Yin Ri_!" Chase roared, "_Where are you_?"

An unsuspecting cat unlucky enough to be lounging under Chase's foot was aptly stomped on in his fury when he rose from his throne. The panther yowled and tried to skitter away from his master's wrath, but the dumb animal was too slow and was kicked across the room by his king's steel-toed boot. He hit the wall with a thud and a pained growl but drew silent, lying still forevermore. The pile of lifeless, black fur riled Chase's blood. He was not sated. It should have been orange.

He rounded upon the doors as they opened, his face contorted into the reptilian ferocity of the beast lurking below his skin, eyes glowing venomously yellow. It was who he had expected, of course, and he came upon the masked warrioress with blinding speed.

"_Where_ have you _been_?" he hissed, fighting to control himself, to keep from killing her before getting the information he needed from the arrogant bitch.

From behind her mask, Yin Ri was calm, eyes white with anger instead of fear. He would rip them out of her head.

"I was where you said I would be," she told him calmly, thickened brogue giving away her true feelings. The volume of her voice slowly rose with her own rage, "I wos _leadin' _th' patrol in Senado Square where ya _told me_ t' _trap _th' _monks_!"

"But you _didn't_!" Chase sharply retorted, "You _let_ them _escape_!"

"Omi woud'ae died!" she shouted, "Yae need him _ali'e _fer yer_ damn _revenge tae be carried out, don' _forget_!"

Chase had to turn around to keep from throwing her against the wall. He gripped the sides of his head to keep his hands from moving to dethatch Yin Ri's from her neck and faced her again, swallowing down all of his impulses to tear her a part.

"You _should_ have _brought_ him to _me,_" He hissed slowly, deliberately; he was not playing games with her anymore.

Yin Ri tilted her chin toward him, that odd quirk she did when sizing up an opponent. Never in her life had she ever done so to him. She was getting cocky. "An' yae know why I wouldn'," she answered quietly, "Yae d'not have as moch _control_ over me as yae would like t' say ya do, _my king_."

Chase took a sharp intake of breath and turned away from her, this time without any intent of looking back, else he _knew_ that he would rip out her throat.

"You have becometoo _bold,_ Yin Ri," he said, the quietness settling in.

It was the stillness of his dragon that always tipped him off as a sign of the storms yet to come. Her time was drawing near, oh yes. Soon, he would get all that he needed from the witch by whatever means necessary. He would just need to be patient. The trap he had for her was not yet laid with bait.

He smiled when he could feel fear drain her spirit at such a small statement. "You _forget_," he said, "that the life of not only your own but the very_ fate_ everything you have ever loved rests within the palm of my hand. All I have to do is close my fingers and _crush_."

He closed his palm at those words and Yin Ri screamed, clutching her chest. She fell to the ground, gasping for breath, tears spilling over the wood though the sockets of the mask. She was curled around herself, clawing at her heart. "Stop it," she wheezed, "I understand, stop!"

"_No_," growled Chase, turning around to look at her pathetically lying at his feet, "You do _not_ understand,"

He bent down and tore the mask from her face, tossing it away as she clutched her curling fingers around his sleeve. He gripped her chin and it quivered helplessly while the rest of her was at his mercy.

"You and I," he said, taking his curled fist and resting the flat of the palm over her heart, "are _one_. And that is something, it seems, you will never _fully_ understand."

Yin Ri gasped, able to breathe again, and let go. She thrusted her own hands to her heart as he stood, thankful for the sweet, sweet life.

"You _should_ be," he said, smirking a little when her doe eyes shot up to stare at him with shock and renewed anger. Yes, he was reading her thoughts. They were in communion and she did not notice at all, "You know I rarely give second chances to those who do not deserve them."

She began to breathe heavily, almost in a panic. Yin Ri's face knotted with budding rage and a sense of disgusted violation.

"And, for the record," Chase said with a smile before she could voice any of what he could sense rising within her. He had to give the girl credit for such colorful thoughts, "_yes_, that_ is_ how I knew of you and Noleta. Honestly, Yin Ri, you are not as _smart_, nor as sneaky as you like to believe yourself to be."

"_Chase_," she growled; an empty warning. She was so cute, a tiny kitten thinking she can out savage a lion. She didn't even have claws to bat at him with, as far as Chase was concerned. She knew it, _of course_ she knew it, but that temper of hers tended to give her a very bad memory.

Chase jerked his head in the direction of the dead panther.

"Do me a favor and clean that up for me, would you?" he asked with a wily smile. With a wink, he added "_Thanks_."

"_P__oll__asal_!" she screeched as Chase walked away from her, "_Dul chun ifreann_!"

"Curse all you want, _Precious,_" he told her, "It shall do you no good. I am _already_ in hell,"

He closed the doors behind him and smiled to himself, "and I have dragged you down with me."

* * *

Cassandra gritted her teeth, grunting with frustration when Chase blocked her strike and twisted her arm far above her head. He pushed her head down with his other hand, forcing her into a submissive bow. He held her there as Cassandra struggled, much to Jack's dismay as he watched beside Wuya on the sidelines of the Playroom's ring.

Cassandra pushed free and scooped her leg behind Chase's. She brought her arms forward and locked his hand with them. She dropped her body, hoping to bring him down with her, but Chase was quicker and spun her around, knocking Cassandra flat on her back instead. He feigned a kick and landed his foot beside her head. Jack could see cracks on the floor and winced at the thought of him actually stomping her face in with that move.

"Get up," Chase snarled, "I _know_ you can do better than that."

Cassandra wiped at her chin and glared at her father before obeying his order. She stood rigidly, her jaw and fists each clenched, and relaxed again into her signature starting stance. Chase did the same, mirroring her so that their extended feet were parallel. "Now, come at me again," he said, "and, this time, _try_ to surprise me."

She shot forward and feigned right, but Chase was having none of it. He thrusted his flat palm into her face and while Cassandra was distracted by the pain to her nose, Chase locked her arm and twisted to her side in a mock form of the stance she tried to have him in before.

"If you really want to flip somebody, my dear," he said, "You must use both their weight and your own against them. Here, I'll demonstrate."

He violently thrusted her over his shoulder and Cassandra hit the floor with a loud thwack. Jack was fairly sure that the sound had come from the back of her head hitting the hardwood.

"Isn't he _amazing_?" gushed Wuya. Her question was obviously aimed toward Jack, but he did not respond.

Jack clenched the fabric of his pants, worrying at it with sweaty palms and fingers. Please, _please_, let Cassandra have been alright!

Wuya, though Jack did not answer her, did not seem to mind. She was too busy fangirling over Chase's "demonstration" to actually listen for his answer.

"Show her who's boss!" she cheered, oblivious to the warrior slinking out of the shadows to join Jack's side. Jack, however, had noticed, but did not look to her. His eyes were for Cassandra only.

Yin Ri stood next to the bench Jack and Wuya were sitting on with her arms folded, watching the spectacle with a straight back and lifted chin. Quietly, to Jack, she murmured "It is hard to look at, isn't it?"

Jack, feeling vomit rise into his throat from the anxiety, only nodded. His eyes strained from his silent willing for Cassandra to stand unharmed. She still was not moving.

"I have watched them like this for years," she told him, "since Cassandra could walk. It was because of my concern for her that I had asked Chase to allow me to train her instead. He agreed, hoping to focus more on Damien's training without distraction."

Jack did not answer, instead, his mind screamed for Cassandra to get up. He nearly shot out of his seat when he saw movement. The princess picked herself up slowly, shakily. But, bravely, she stood, forcing herself into her signature stance, one foot extended in front of the other, and with her arms raised for a quick jab or two. She was breathing heavily, and she swayed. She had to have had a concussion, if not some sort of brain damage.

"Your _brother_ would have gotten up again within half of that time," said Chase, unimpressed, "Your enemies would not wait for you. You cannot defeat them if you are_ dead_, Cassandra."

Jack tensed and rose along with his anger, but Yin Ri's hand stopped him and sat him right back down again. The grip she had on his shoulder was nearly bone-crushing.

He looked to her out of the corner of his eye and she did the same. "_Don't,_" she told him in a near whisper, "This es not yer fight. Not yet."

She let him go then and walked forward in his place. Jack felt a pang of sympathy for Cassandra when she jumped at Yin Ri's gentle touch to the back of her shoulder. She looked to Yin Ri, rage slowly dripping down and filling in the pockets of shock on her face. Yin Ri, however, had her gaze turned to her master steadily.

"Cassandra cannot continue," she said, "She has been injured and I must examine her for signs of concussion."

"How _dare_ you," hissed Cassandra, "This is _my_ fight! This is no place for a slave to interfere! Be gone at once!"

Yep, concluded Jack, definitely brain damaged.

Yin Ri ignored her and held Chase's gaze silently. He returned her stare, his yellow eyes spelling doom and danger for his head cat. But, after a moment, Chase relaxed his stance and nodded to Yin Ri.

"You may go," he told her quietly, but the glare he had trained on her relayed to Jack that this little showdown between them was far from over.

"But, father!" Cassandra wailed bitterly, shaking Yin Ri's grip off of her shoulder with a violent tug.

"Your_ health_ is what is important, Cassandra," snapped Chase, "I will train with you again once Yin Ri deems you well."

Cassandra tensed, but said nothing more. She obediently allowed Yin Ri to take her arm again.

_That shut her up_, Jack thought to himself. The pit of his stomach dropped when he realized that Chase's eyes had wandered to him.

Jack stopped breathing when the Dragon King's eyes focused on him, studying him. Jack clutched his pant legs again in his balled fists and tried not to look too afraid. But, after a brief moment's pause, Chase looked again to Cassandra and spoke, freeing Jack from his scrutiny.

"You are all the legacy I have left," he told her, "and since your brother's passing, I have realized that I must keep you safe even if that means postponing your training for a while."

He smiled when saying this, but Jack could not shake the feeling that the smile was false. Chase's motives, whatever they were, were _definitely_ not for Cassandra's benefit. Jack swallowed the stone in his throat and looked at Yin Ri, hoping he could uncover some clue as to what Chase was really thinking through studying her, but he could find nothing there.

The warrioress stared at Cassandra, eyes so silvery bright that Jack realized the shining of them was not from varying shades but from held back tears. "Come, Your Grace," she said, gently tugging on Cassandra's arm.

Like a child, Cassandra obediently followed, looking back to her father hesitantly and reluctantly, hoping he would change his mind.

Was she really _that_ crazy? Jack swore that absolutely everyone in this place was off their rocker. He wanted out. The way Chase had just looked at him made Jack suddenly highly aware of the danger he was in. That heightened awareness made him a bit nostalgic for the rat-like nature he once had of scurrying away from any threat that loomed over him. He longed for it.

Who was he kidding? He couldn't kill _Chase _no matter how close he got! He would tell Kimiko tonight. He wanted out before it was too late. He was vengeful, not suicidal. If it wasn't Chase who would kill him, it would be Yin Ri. If it wasn't Yin Ri, Jack had a hunch that Cassandra would do anything to be Daddy's Little Girl. Jack definitely did not want to be around to find out just how right he was.

* * *

The radio crackled as Kimiko's voice struggled to come through, "Absolutely not, Jack."

"You have no idea what it's _like_ here, Kimiko," Jack told her, his voice cracking pathetically with fear.

"You're.. the one ..who was so.. gung-ho about," the radio crackled, fading her transmission in and out, "We can't… afford.. to…you out now…we need…"

"Kimiko," Jack called as the walky only filtered out static, "Kimiko, come in."

* * *

"Jack," Kimiko called, hitting the walky with the palm on her hand. Only static could be heard from his end, "Jack, can you copy?"

Just the fizzles and pops of the dying radio could be heard. Omi stared at her as he leaned against the wall, breathing ragged breaths.

Worry creased his brow and he sucked in air, about to cry. He was having another spasm, small tremors of repercussion from the attack he endured in Senado Square. He gripped his side just under his ribs as he arched his back to stay upright against the wall of the tunnel, several tears spilling down to the corners of his quivering mouth.

"He'll be fine," Kimiko told him, growing pale has her own fears for Jack's safety shot to the surface of her mind. She swallowed, doing nothing for her dry throat, as Omi rolled his head from side to side slowly with disagreement.

"I think Chase knows," Omi told her, sucking in breath as Kimiko watched another wave of pain hit him, "He is just biding his time. He is waiting for us."

Kimiko threw the walky against the wall with a yell. It broke in two and tumbled to the floor, the sizzling and popping dying down into terrifying silence.

"We can't give up," Kimiko said, nearly choking on her own voice as a sob threatened to overtake her, "Jack will be fine! He's paranoid! He's just being Jack! He's…"

"We are_ all_ being Jack," wheezed Omi as Kimiko began to cry, "We are all being cowards."

"We're keeping everyone safe down here," Kimiko growled, shaking her head.

"We are kidding ourselves," Omi shot back, clutching his side more tightly. He was fighting to stay upright. He nearly collapsed, but Kimiko rushed to his aid and held him upright.

Omi pushed her away and glared at her, "Don't," he told her, "don't."

He lightly brushed her aside when he stood upright again on his own and began to hobble down the tunnel.

"Where are you going?" Kimiko asked him.

She could hear the anger in his voice when he yelled over his shoulder "I need to meditate!"

* * *

**AN: I'm going away for three weeks to Nairobi, Kenya. I will have no computer access, so there will be no new updates for a while. I'm glad I could finish this up before my trip on Tuesday. I was worried I wouldn't get it out on time before my flight. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It was a total pain in the ass to write, especially with my work putting me on extra hours before I go away. I'll see you some time late July (hopefully)!**

**-TNIB**


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